Welcome to a small basement under a pizza shop.

One of my favorite bands Showbread takes the stage.

Josh Dies, vocals.  He has medium size black hair and

a lip ring on the left side of his lip.

Patrick Porter. Bass.  Brother to Josh. 

Mike Jensen. Guitar.  He has the face of Jesus tattooed to both his hands.

Landon Ginnings.  Guitar. Long black hair. Nose ring. Some facial hair.

Garrett Holmes. He hails from North Carolina and will play his

brand new red Korg keytar.

Tony Clifton. Drummer. Tonight is his first night playing live.

I hear pickups seduce electric currents like pretty whores.

Fretboards are abused.  High gain is pulsating.

Embrace the driving bass.

Clashing cymbals.  Thumping drums.

Hundreds of eardrums are shattered.

Arms flail. Bodies fall.

Sweat exchange. Bacteria rearrange.

Heads banging. Necks aching.

Lungs suffocating. Brain cells dying.

Reverberating echoes.

Josh sings “when I breathe my very last, don’t shed a tear for me.

Discard the body that once was my prison, for I’ll have been set free.”