an old friend of mine was screamin' jay's girlfriend about ten years back. she said he was nuts. she finally walked out on him in the middle of the night after he pulled a gun on her one too many times. gets a little old, i guess. she didn't mind the black eyes and the broken bones, but the gun just got boring...
i saw a great surfers show at the old cresent ballroom (in tacoma). somehow watching these nasty-ass bands in a beatshit old uso ballroom where the sonics and the wailers held court way back in the sixties was some sort of perverse heaven.
the legendary ed fotheringham did this poster. he did a whole series of posters for this - his own band. he "sang". the band's technique was to walk onstage during break and pick up whatever instrument was left laying around by the previous band and begin to make it up as they went along. oh, and the most important element was to get blind blistered fukin drunk beforehand. as time went on they spent more time creating costumes (xmas show - baby jesus ed with sheep for a band, daiy chain, ed's famous 'zit' suit covered with plastic baggies of cream that the audience would poke with straws and he'd squeez 'em. you know, ART) than thinking up 'songs'.
this band was probably the first 'grunge' band. it shoulda died with them.