Okay, so we had to go to the Abbey on its final night -- after all, it's right around the corner. It was sold out, but of course Billly Ruane got us in. What else is new? We were in time for the Coffin Lids, and as they played "Welcome to Pussytown," I reflected, "It's nice that someone's still writing songs like this." We'd already listened to Muck and the Mires as we stood on the sidewalk, playing Kenne Highland's "Not Too Shabby at the Abbey" (a/k/a "Johnny B. Goode") clearly audible through the wall. The Konks played "Sex Bomb." Then they played "Sex Bomb" again. Then they invited some friends on stage and played "Sex Bomb." So it was nice too to see that Kurt Davis (a/k/a Yukki Gipe) was still into rock music as primal gestalt. The guitarist yelled over to the bar, "Hey Steve, where the fuck am I gonna go now?" They encouraged the crowd to smoke, and some people did. Steve Morse was there. The Boob was there. People on the sidewalk talked about other clubs that had closed from Storyville to and Jumpin' Jack Flash to, of course, the Rat. Over the "No Smoking" sign inside the door, someone had written "...except on drums." I'd never noticed that before. Triple Thick played "Love Comes in Spurts" and "Triple Thick Shake." After "10,000 Maggots," we went home.