Cook me in your breakfast

Jason Martin from Bunny Brains

Welcome to the show.

What lives in the Hanna Barbera dumpster.

See Bunny Brains piss the Somerville Theatre manager off...

See a blurry Banhart take a seat on the floor.

See DB be a hug machine.
Photos by Cami.

(Today's guest post was written by the illustrious DJ, mixologist, and Plunge Into Death co-leader Mark E. Moon.)


a. ms. stacie slotnik provided us with 4th row center seats. right next to devandra's dad and his entourage!

b. opening band tarantula a.d.=brooklyn chamber prog metal. lots of headbands and vests. thumbs down from this humble reviewer. they're opening for rasputina next week. somehow, and i guess this officially makes me old, the musical forms that were the absolute enemy growing up (prog rock, metal, dead-inspired southern rock) are now popular.

c. devandra was OK. he's a real good frontperson, i was charmed. he does cool good hippie dances. it got pretty old, but people were really into it. lots of interminable jams. he did do this awesome thing. halfway through the set, he asked the audience: "does anyone in the audience write songs." of course, this being somerville, everyone raised their hands. "well, let's have someone come up here and sing one of their songs." and so he had some random (berklee-trained, i'm guessing) hippie dude come up and sing a song. dude had the skillz. many hugs were exchanged. many random people on stage during the set(FEATHERS sang back-up on a couple of songs).

d. the craziest part of the evening were BUNNYBRAINS (who i think have been around since the late-80s. i remember having records of theirs in college). their set started (2 people on stage, i'm guessing the only original members involved in the night, one of them dressed as the phantom of the opera), when suddenly there was noise at the back of theater. the houselights came on, and it was a motley crew of nu-hippies, many of DREAMHOUSE and THE CIRCUS BAND (do they have a name?) included. they even brought the world-famous dreamhouse
tarps. it quickly devolved into absolute chaos. just a crazy jam. somerville theater staffers actually cut the sound until the tarps were removed from the audience (fire code violation?). then the jam continued. it was, of course, really annoying, but really awesome as well. kids (lots of kids at the show) lost it and just started dancing in the aisles and jumping up on stage. the
soundguy, the staff, nobody really knew what was going on and who was in the show and who wasn't. the people sitting next to me (devandra's dad's friends) were really pissed off about the whole shebang. since i didn't really particularly care about seeing devandra, i was pretty psyched that it happened, but many people were not pleased.

and that is that.

your humble reporter,

jef Mark E.

Cami adds a tag-team-style stream-of-consciousness blurb:

Um, yeah, Bunny Brains were wild. Confrontational even-- which was sorta awesome. Fifteen people in half-assed costumes (a lawn troll, a unicorn head, Arnold, Dr. Doom etc.) creating a hippie-crazed cacophony on stage, in the aisles, in the back walkway -- like Hanna Barbera emptied the company dumpster onto the Somerville Theatre. Long-haired leader-type dude screamed nonsensical things like "Where in the water?" and "Take your shackles back" while horns puked, women moaned into mics, and one shirtless dude intermittently shined a spotlight on the audience. Call Don McLean: this was the day the music died.

As for the tarp incident: when I first walked in, a unicorn-headed dude pushed by me, dragging a giant blue thing like a Chinese New Year dragon. Some other hopping, squeeking, druggy-boogying costumed freaks joined him and managed to pull this thing down the right aisle and cover the entire middle-orchestra audience, which led to the Somerville Theatre manager coming out and yelling hysterically at the soundman that this was a huge fire hazard and the show couldn't go on unless they put the tarp away and YOU CAN'T DO THIS! Then he yelled at all the people crowded at the back of the theatre (I was the one with the blue hoodie and the digi-cam), telling us we needed to find seats. Since I was all alone (no one else would pay $24 for this madness), I managed to get an empty seat in the fourth row right behind Mark E. Moon and Devendra Barnhart's daddy, which was pretty cool. Hadn't been that amused at the Somerville Theatre since the time the vaccum-powered ice-cream machine gave me two Oreo sandwiches. Holy shit.
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