by Casey Rea
Sorry for the uncharacteristic lack of posts; I've been pretty busy at work. Then there's the head cold I've been battling, which meant no blogger meet ups or shows — just lots of soup, Claritin™ and The Wire. We did manage to visit my aunt in Hinesburg last Friday, though, where I drank way too much and told crazy stories to her (hopefully) bemused children.
I was hoping to have another podcast put together by now, but in between the upcoming wedding and my general panic about where the hell we're gonna move and what I might do there, I've been rather distracted.
You know how I always bitch about how indie-rock is boring as shit these days? Well, someone agrees with me.
Also in SF Weekly: "The situation can't be unfucked," says ex-Arthur editor Jay Babcock. Read why here.
I get to talk to one of my heroes, Lindsey Buckingham, in a wee little while. I'll let you know how that goes.
UPDATE: I just talked to Mr. Buckingham. Nice fella. I was psyched that he didn't shy away from questions about Fleetwood Mac. Of course he's probably heard them all by now.... Oh yeah — he plays the Flynn on April Fool's Day. And I'm currently listening to live Uriah Heep, 'cause our General manager Rick Woods is insane and he just threw the CD at my head [insert devil's horns].