Last Saturday (April 4, 2009) at the Eastside was a blast. We’ve played with some good bands before, but it is truly a rare and treasured occurrence when shows go that well and I enjoy myself as thoroughly as I did that night.
We (Glass Elevator) opened the show. We began promptly at 9:00pm (that’s 8:45 bar time), which is early for a Saturday night in Olympia. Consequently there were not a lot of people in the crowd, but that was okay with us. We knew how it was going to go and we planned our set accordingly. We eased into the show with mellow psychedelia. As the show went on the music got more and more intense and the crowd grew larger and larger until the end where we exploded into a full out assault of rock and the now large crowd was cheering and demanding more.
Being the professionals that we are, however, we made way for Eldridge Gravy and the Court Supreme who got not only the entire club, but seemingly all of Olympia shaking its collective booty which is no easy feat. They raised the roof and then tore it down. They made believers of the most skeptical and unwound the most uptight. We’ve played with the Gravy twice now and both times I was honored to share a stage with a band that pure and that professional. It’s no doubt that Eldridge Gravy and the Court Supreme will make it and make it big someday soon and I can go to my grave knowing that we kept up with them even if only for a moment.
My friend had taken some mushrooms earlier that evening and I was reminded of that fact as Z-Kamp was getting prepped. The last time I dropped acid was at a Z-Kamp, Meat the Vegan, Human Jukebox show so I knew what she was in for. I asked her how she was doing. She told me that she was having an awesome time. I asked her if she was ready for Z-Kamp and she replied confidently, “Oh yeah. I’m not peaking anymore.” but I knew better. I knew that as soon as Z-Kamp started that her face would begin to melt and her mood would rapidly swing back and forth from hysterical and giddy laughter to befuddled awe.
And I was right. Z-Kamp didn’t waste any time. They busted right out of the gates with gooey psychedelia that released all the pent up Lysergic Acid Diethylamide 25 that was so innocently resting dormant in the base of my spine. I’m older now and I don’t take psychedelic drugs as often as I did once upon a time, but it wasn’t all that long ago that I, and seemingly all my peers, spent most of our time in a bubbly and colorful world where the ground was elastic, the air was liquid, time wasn’t linear, and communicating with speech was nearly impossible. Seeing Z-Kamp play live always floods my brain with vivid and lucid flashbacks of that golden era and the memory that they burn onto my brain stays with me just like all the best trips I ever took until real life seeps in and I have to start dealing with bills and money and responsibility and work and and all the little things that combine and clump together to make life seem unpleasant and disappointing as day after day goes by until I almost completely forget about how much I actually love Z-Kamp and how much they represent everything positive and magical that life is really supposed to be about and my days drift by in a haze and I forget what I spent last week doing and then a Z-Kamp show comes up and I go to see them and they just smack me across my face and say “Wake The Fuck Up And Smell The Goddamned Flowers Dipshit! Life Is Awesome And You Should Be Thankful Every Day You Spoiled And Ungrateful Cockroach!” Thank you Z-Kamp. The world needs what you do.