Turns out Pat moved out to LA from Indiana with another guy, Doug, to start the band eighteen years ago. First Antiseen, and now, The Lazy Cowgirls. They give me hope. I can still hop off stage right after the show, like Patt Todd, sweating my ass off, heading towards the merch table to hock some cool, tight t-shirts and a few records. While my co-workers may be thinking, why doesn't that old fuck give it up, acting like a little kid, I'll know better.
Age means nothing.
Think of all of the eighteen year olds playing slow-ass emo, or trance, or ambient music at this very moment. Hell, think of some of the wimpy, sensitive songs I wrote when I was eighteen. Give me honest, unaffected vocals and Johnny Ramone's fingers possessed by cowboy demons. Give me what the Sex Pistols may have sounded like in Texas if McLauren had convinced them to be a little like the Romans. Sure, the rough-necks would have still preferred the Allman Brothers .