Photo courtesy Amy Wallenberg. She rules. 1. It was billed as an acoustic set, but it didn't turn out that way: the Soundtrack of Our Lives, just a few hours removed from opening for Robert Plant at the Pavilion, showed up for a late-night apertif at T.T.'s with all their gear, cranked up full volume, and burned the place to the ground. Club personnel later overheard proclaiming it the best gig they've ever booked. Our Man chatted up (and smoked up) the boys afterwards. TSOOL singer Ebbot Lundberg lamented that they never get good weed in Sweden: all they get is hash. (Yeah, sure, rub it in, Ebbot.)
TSOOL, "
Big Time" (.wma video)
2. Meanwhile, across town, OTD checked in on advance hype about
Mad Man Films in deepest Allston. Wigs, full frontal nudity, blood (well, ok, the kid upstairs who tried to open the bottle with his teeth and missed), fire (the host, who celebrated his birthday by burning his old Birkenstocks), boy-on-boy makeout action (n.h., apparently, though we're still not quite sure how that works), all instigated by this Afro-punk singer-guitarist named George, who reminds us of a cross between
Johnny Vulture and
Johnny Thunders, or sometimes of a cross between
Ike Turner and
Ian MacKaye.
No mp3s yet -- though "Brotherfucker," on their
myspace page, is worth checking out -- but a record-release coming next week. Someone needs to get at us with it.