Sinister: Love That Dirty Water

[Carrick C Blair]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Well I've just returned, escaped rather, from the once fair city of
Boston. And it seems the other attendees of last nights show only told
you a small bit of what really happened. Like Stuart's forgetting the
chords to Judy and The Dream of Horses was the only incident worth
mentioning. Most likely, everyone is trying to cover their tracks, and
not let on to the Boston Police their involvement in what has been
determined to be the most subversive and violent rock and roll crowd to
besmirch the fair streets of Olde Boston Towne since Jefferson Airplane
burned American flags and led bands of rioting youths down Commonwealth
Avenue back in 1968. 

It all started when our dear friend Jamie was unable to attend, and we
were forced to sell our extra ticket out front. This caught the eye of
the lone constable on duty who only assumed we were cheating the poor
fellow. Only one officer was sent out for the show since the word on
street was that all Belle and Sebastian fans were foppish, limp wristed,
"cardie wearing biscuit nibbling", apathetic youngsters. But as we were
being accosted by the cop, the crowd waiting to get in caused a fuss, and
chased the poor man back to his squad car. Yet before the reinforcements
arrived, we had barricaded ourselves in the auditorium. The show started
on schedule, but the now riled up mob soon realized that the only drinks
to be had was from the taps of the bathroom sinks, and proceeded to drown
the opening band with chants of WE WANT BEER!!!, or for the few Brits in
the audience, WE WANT CIDER!!!! Luckily a few gallant souls snuck out the
back door during the break and skipped down to the local package store to
see what they could find. They returned with armfuls of small airplane
size bottles of Jameson's Irish Whiskey. These were swiftly distributed
by being thrown from the balcony to the wanting and eager hands below. So
by the time our heroes took the stage, they were greeted by the
bacchanalian roar that we all know they deserve. At witnessing the
revelry before him, Stuart Murdoch, seized by a sudden, ancestral,
Calvinist  zeal, scaled the wall behind the stage, and grabbed the stone
tablets of the Ten Commandants which hung there and dashed them to
pieces. The ignorant, heathen crowd did not understand Stuart's point and
carried on in there wanton ways. Stuart than decided that in light of the
recent lenient attitudes of the Church of England, it was best to
continue the show, and soon got into the spirit of things.

As you can imagine, even though the band was in fine form, and it
certainly can be claimed that they ROCK!!!,  the show proceeded in a
somewhat tense atmosphere. What, with the majority of Boston's finest
circling the auditorium and the supply of Jameson's Whiskey rapidly
evaporating. It didn't help matters when the band after teasing us with
Boston's More Than A Feeling, went into the loudest, most violent version
of MC5's Kick Out The Jams this boy has ever heard. Hearing the battle
cry of our protesting parents prepared the crowd well for what faced them
outside, leading to much airplane size liquor bottle throwing which was
of course followed by the police brandishing their night sticks and stun
guns. The battle lasted until the wee hours of the morning, with the band
skipping off in their tour bus in the midst of the fight to the safer
confines of Philadelphia, and our side being reinforced with the majority
of the student population of Boston University. Of course not much was
left of the Auditorium, with much of the seating being torn up during
concert to be used as barricades. No mid terms for a while, I'm afraid.

All the throngs of Boston fans have now gone into hiding and no one will
dare wear a B&S t-shirt for years to come. No matter really, since all
shirts bought at the show had to be used as gas masks during the tear gas
attack. 

All and all a good show. Only a few precious souls were lost. And a few
have been caught by "The Man". Our prayers and thoughts are with them
tonight. Boston will never be the same.The battle has just begun.

And where was I during all of this? Hiding in the corner of the balcony,
whimpering.


Carrick

With a little help from Shilough. "bacchanalian" was his word.
See you in Philly.

That was really silly, I'm sorry. 
Waiting 5 or is it 10 seconds.
Thinking of Cliff.
Oh well, I'll give it a try.





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