I can’t even begin to tell you how many men, women, children, and other undiscovered gender bending petri-dished strange asked, begged, and - in some cases - demanded to DJ this gig. Alas, only fo slots, and yours truly had to fill one of ‘em. Here’s the breakdown:

DJs DIRTY PILLOWS, GEHENNA, HEAVEE KREEM, and LIFERAFT:
Kreem is expired and sour, plating scratch pad LPs heavy on gauzy static and light on flight. Voidoids vs. the Meatballs OST; this is neither pleasurable, nor perforated. Herb Alpert’s Doyouwanna blast, and a soupcon of salacious singles. Expect the Unexpected. Liferaft, another air mattress altogether, is the first one into the pool, and the last one to exit, even with a Baby Ruth bobbing in its azure waves. Unreliable sources whisper the possibilities of Liferaft ladling up some fatty beatz, friendly funk, and a few post-punk epix. Gehenna is nothing but nihil. Avast, Alcoholica! Embrace Exodus; Decry Death Angel, and spell it wid me: S-A-C-R-I-F-I-C-E! Gehenna will bring the black wax from the noir Norse; expect at least thirty minutes of Darkthrone, right along with an hour of Joe Walsh. Literally bringing up the rear is Pillows, a nebulous, pointallistic presence on the wheels of steel. Pillows is determined to get your feet tapping to a melange of early Cars, Chanteuse Francais, and assorted wily woodwins. Achtung.

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