November 8, 2007 Double Door, Chicago, IL The Meat Puppets Ha Ha Tonka Balloonatic Hello, my name is Slug, and welcome to my first article for MonsterFresh.com. It is a humble article, but it had ambitions to be so much more. Originally, this article was going to be a big, garish piece of writing, throwing around big, garish quotations by the Kirkwood Brothers of The Meat Puppets, one of the best psychedelic rock bands ever, revealing all their drugged-out splendor firsthand. They were the first band I ever saw perform live on stage when I was 16 back in 1994, and I had goose bumps I was so excited. However, instead of my great big garish expose, I am left with only one quote by one band member, which I will get to momentarily, and a lesson learned, which I will close this article with. After trying for weeks to schedule an interview with The Meat Puppets before either of their shows at the Double Door here in Chicago on November 7-8, I was at least able to get on the guest list for the second show on the 8th. Once there, I figured I would be able to work my way backstage and attempt a spontaneous interview, and I was off to the show, recorder in tow. To start the evening, two bands opened the show, Balloonatic and Ha Ha Tonka. I was too late for the Balloonatic set, but I did catch Ha Ha Tonka. They were okay, better than most opening bands, but still a little too polished and poppy (alas, not of the opiated sort) for my tastes. They had rough sketches of a Rolling Stones sensibility not short on bluesy power chords and cheesy lyrics, the type of style very popular with young rock bands trying to break the scene. While they did provide some rocking tunes for me to get drunk to, as soon as I looked at the stage, I choked on my Pabst, as they had the appearance of a post-indie radio band destined for one-hit-wonder status. To distract myself, I meandered over to the merchandise table. At the merchandise table is where the night gets interesting. Since I had not paid for a ticket, I decided to buy a concert poster for $10. However, there was no re-entry, and I did not want to hold onto the damn thing all night. I started schmoozing with the merch guy, who eventually said he would walk me through the backstage entrance to run to my car, drop off the poster, and let me back in the Double Door’s second door. Just as we turn toward the backstage area, the man himself, the infamous Cris Kirkwood walks into the bar and starts talking to my new buddy, the merch guy…
