SLO Brew's Bloodlust

That damn pole. It has more blood on it than a serial killer's penis. Have you seen it? Well, if you've ever been lucky enough to have seen a concert at SLO Brew, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's right smack dab in the middle of the floor. What a architectural fuck up! It's impossible to see the didgeridoo player in the corner of the stage if you are enjoying one of the house brews, from the 21 and over section. Might as well sneak in your own booze and get as close to the stage as you possibly can. If you forgot your moonshine, then you're shit out of luck. Why don't they just remove it? Perhaps put an archway there? I don't have a fucking clue. Get a Cal Poly engineer on it. Just an idea...
I've seen people horribly injured there, especially during metal concerts when a circle pit gets going full steam. Bones get broken, faces and limbs get mangled, genitals get dismembered, puddles of blood get formed and slipped upon, and that's during the opening band. I witnessed this hemorrhaging first hand the other day at an Exhumed show (Pictured left). There were girls in the pit as tall as 6'5 and weighing close to 250 lbs., swinging their mallet-sized fists and vomiting on their fetuses they just aborted. It was almost kind of boring. I yawned and went to buy a drink. That sucked too. I had to pay $30 for a shot of cheap whiskey and a mixed well drink. The booze, however, made things a bit more interesting, but it did not give me the courage to donate any of my blood to the floor.
I've also been to hundreds of other shows at SLO Brew since its inception in 1492. I've even been to a few hip hop shows there. Now, let me inform you about rap shows at Brew. They are ridiculous. In a good way. There are all kinds of weirdos that come out to see the likes of tha Alkaholiks, DJ Quik, DEL, E-40, and other rap acts. These cool ass muthafuckas get so high before, during, and after the show that they think they are no longer a part of reality. They've finally sailed off and are listening to their departure songs. For example, I've seen some dudes with hugs sets of curly hair, walking and spinning on their goddamn heads like their hairs are actually the universe's strongest, tiniest arms. Bananas. I can't possibly wrap my own head around it, but I love it. I also love how there are 30 guys on stage with the main performer all rhyming at the same time, spilling their beers all over the stoned crowd. Now that's what I call an out of body experience.
Next we have reggae. Now, there have been many people shot and killed at some of these shows, but never at the Brew. It's usually peaceful, groovin, and smokey. You know why? Security guards. They don't interact with the crowd too much. They aren't trying to show off their new martial arts moves. They let us jerk off in the corner or dance without worries with our dead pets. However, when they have to, they step in and execute whoever is being a buzzkill and make sure everyone gets back to enjoying the show they paid good money for. They are professionals and I personally want to thank them for doing their job well and knowing when to beat some idiot's brains in when they try and ruin a show at the Brew.
To be honest, it's never happened. No one can ruin a show at SLO Brew. They host the best concerts on the central coast. They deserve an award of some kind. What's not to love about the Brew? The sound there is phenomenal. I damn near go deaf at every show. Fuck my ears. The location is also a plus. It's brick walls are stacked right in the middle of the ass crack of downtown SLO. I dare you to try and not find this fucking place. If you don't know where it is, ask the next person you see and they will point and say, "watch out for that damn pole." That damn pole. Get rid of it. Nobody wants to know what a serial killer's penis looks like, let alone get killed by it. Although, it would be kind of cool to see someone get their chest cracked open by it, especially during a smooth jazz concert. I plan on going to every concert at the Brew until this happens. Hopefully everybody survives. Or not. The pole needs more blood. We must obey.

www.slobrewco.com

Eat Ya Heart Out Proxima Parada

Women troubles, shit, we've all got 'em. Us, men, are better off having our better half take us to the taxidermist and getting stuffed and mounted in their pretty lil rooms, to show off to their pretty lil friends. It'll be easier for everyone: we'll always be stiff and quiet, and they can talk for hours on end without us getting bored or saying something stupid in response. It's not that we don't try though. Give credit when credit is due. Most honest men give their all. We give our money, time, energy, wisdom, and massive erections, anytime, any place without question and we ask for next to nothing in return. This is, often times, not good enough. So, they dump us, right on our sorry asses, and move right on to the next man as if we never existed, but it doesn't end there! We always come begging for more and more and more and more until, we're dreaming blue, sweating blue, puking blue, shitting blue, and turning blue, to the point where it seems like eating our own heart is the only option we have left. Now, accompany these dreadful feelings with the weeping sounds Myles Wittman makes with his trumpet and we start to get an idea of what type of music Proxima Parada plays.
Myles is not the only one chewing on his heart, he's joined by his bandmates Bryon Bailey, Kevin Middlekauf, Nick Larson, and Andy Olson. Together they share in on the same great woe that destroys even the strongest of men. I saw it all over their faces when they performed with my girlfriend this past weekend. Wait, that came out wrong. My girlfriend and I could see misery pouring out of them when they opened up for the Tumbleweed Wanderers and Tilted Tides at SLO Brew. For you information, Parada should NOT have been the openers. No offense to Tilted Tides, but they were completely blown off the stage by them. They simply could not compete with Parada's emotional and remarkable stage presence.
Bryson's voice was the first intonation that caught my attention. He has some soul in him, this kid. It comes roaring out of his wondrous throat every time he sang one of his original songs. Even if he hasn't had a woman rip out his soul and run it over with her new boyfriend's truck repeatedly till there was nothing left but dust, he sure as hell can sing like it. So can Nick for that matter and they all can play an eclectic range of instruments as well. One moment, Kevin could be working the deep grooves of the bass and the next, plucking a banjo and finally going over to the mandolin to strum away all his pain. Then, they all trade spots and Andy will also come out from behind his kit and sing till the audience is in tears, reminiscing old flings that got away.
Not all of Parada's songs are about break ups and choking on your own heart. They know how to get down and educate as well. For example, they incorporate Latin influences in their music, hence their name. Their rhythm really gets the crowd up and dancing and stomping and break dancing. They also have a song questioning the belief system many, many Americans follow so blindly, written by Nick Larson himself. Some other original songs they have include "Sink or Swim,"Who You Callin'," and my personal favorite, "See These Eyes." Each song shows off this young band's prowess as musicians.
They are very much indeed a very talented band, who's future will bring them much more recognition from the Central Coast as they continue to open up for traveling bands and to do shows of their own. But all this praise comes with a price: women. Yes, they will be swimming in pussy juice in no time, but with that they will end up in an ocean of sorrow. It's inevitable, but that's great news for those just discovering Parada. Why? Because the more they feast on their own hearts, the more soulful songs they will write, the more us men can finally move on to robot women who don't like our money, time, energy, wisdom, or anything else our sorry asses have to offer. Good job fellows, way to get the burdens off our minds and for that we are more than happy to oblige by going to all of your shows.