What, This Old Thing...

Tonight, I’m going to The Fuzzy Ball, and I’m meeting an Internet friend in person for the first time. I want to wear just the right t-shirt to make a good impression. Let’s see what I’ve got.

Unfortunately, my Sonic Youth Sonic Nurse t-shirt has gone from faded, to ratty, and, finally, to band t-shirt heaven, where it now rubs shoulders with Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones, and Jim Morrison t-shirts. [This is a Shoegaze blog; neither one of your readers will know who those people were. - ed] Oh, right. Let’s see… We’ve been pretty lucky, so far; only Chris Acland and Tim Morris come to mind. Oh, and Kevin Shields. [Kevin Shields is still with us. - ed] Yeah, right. If that were true, there’d be a new record by My Bloody Valentine out by now, surely. [Shakes head, sighs heavily. I give up. - ed] Good. Now, maybe, I can finish my story.

So, anyway, it looks like I’m left with only three possibilities. First up, my C’est la Mort Angel t-shirt. There would be a kind of irony in wearing it: C’est la Mort played the Seattle show last night, but aren’t coming to Portland. Oh, but it’s black, as are my jacket and trousers; I’d look like a wannabe Goth.

I could be snotty and wear the Charmparticles t-shirt I bought at their CD release party several years ago. Like The High Violets, Charmparticles were mainstays of the original NW Shoegazers/Fuzzy Balls, but both are now conspicuous by their absence. No, too negative – tonight is supposed to be a celebration. [Not to mention that, by the time you got there, Charmparticles had sold out of XLs, and too many nights snacking on milk and cookies while watching DVDs has rendered you, shall we say, unfit for a size L. - ed] Are you still here?

Well, that leaves my Galaxie 500 t-shirt. That could work. Galaxie 500 weren’t shoegazers, but they were definitely an influence and, had they hung around a bit longer, probably would have tried their hand at it. Anyone from that elite stratum of knowledgeable music fans who saw my t-shirt would instantly recognize and embrace me as one of their own. On the other hand, it is my best t-shirt, and I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard by overdressing.

Maybe I’ll do what I usually do: realize that I’m fifty-plus years old, have one foot in the grave, and no one is going to come up to me and say, “cool shirt, dude.”