The Rain in Jersey Stays Mainly in My Basement

As usual for a Saturday night when I have plans, it's supposed to rain all night. That means there's a good chance of our basement flooding. Again. ARRRGGGHHH!

I'm supposed to be in Brooklyn tonight at the NorthSix to catch The Fucking Champs show and damn it, I don't want to miss it!

As usual, the gods are against me. Just two days ago I was traipsing around the park, gallavanting on the swings, groovin' to The Soundtrack Of Our Lives (stupid name, good band), and now I'm cold and pissed off. To add insult to injury, I've had to do work all day, and now I might not even have the pay off of seeing a good show tonight.

Boo fuckin hoo.

So Long, Soria

I found out the other day that Alex Soria, guitarist of The Nils, died in December. Apparently he was struck by a train. It's pretty much assumed it was a suicide; as it turns out he was a troubled guy. The Nils were one of the coolest, but most under-appreciated punk rock bands around. They were from Montreal, and got together in the late '70s. Despite their catalog of great, solid melodic rock tunes, they languished in obscurity like lots of deserving Canadian bands (The Pointed Sticks, from across the country in Vancouver, come to mind).

I got the chance to catch The Nils-offshoot band, Chino, at Mercury Lounge a few years back, and still recall it as one of the best shows I've ever seen. Even then, the small room was half empty, but they played as if on a stadium stage before thousands. There were rumors about The Nils getting back together, but sadly, there's no hope for that now. (Download the mp3 of Misbehavin' by Chino, from their Mala Leche EP.)


I know it's lame, but I always thought he was kinda cute (especially in this pic), and that makes me doubly bummed. Let's face it: it sucks more when cute people die, especially when they're kick ass guitarists.

The Montreal Mirror printed a melancholy series of personal rememberances of Alex which is worth reading.