One Step Together.

I remember, having just bought the Operation Ivy cd at the age of 15, looking through the accompanying catalogue from Lookout Records. One of the records - perhaps it was The Mr T Experience, perhaps it was The Riverdales - featured two guys in front of a drummer, wielding their guitars like hammers and adopting such severe powerstances that I thought initially they may have been ironic. They were in some kind of warehouse, concrete floored with wires and cables everywhere. At one point at the Majorca show last night Jimmy and Scott struck the exact same poses, in exactly the same kind of room. They weren't great last night - the sound was terrible, and consequently they were a little out of time - but I was so stoked with them for taking me back to that moment, when punk was still opening my eyes and something new was blowing my mind on a regular basis, that it didn't matter. I was supposed to go to the show at Pony afterwards, but I didn't. Instead I went to ShitTown.