While the tiny dictator is roaming around Tuscany with the Maestro and Teejus is getting his hula on at the luau, someone has to step up with some filler. Might as well be some music filler.
So here we are, waiting for the end of Gheorghemas and the launch of new insightful content / dipshittery in 2025.
The ruggers among us might be waiting for someone to shout harmoniously:
Whyyyyyy are we waaaaaaiting?
with a lewd rejoinder or two.
But more of you are simply waiting in the G:TB waiting room (the previous post's Comments section) for Gmas to conclude. Patiently. You are a patient lot of boys and girls.
Oh, but we're also all awaiting the impending, infernal inauguration to launch us into Limbo. You know, the one without the catchy music and the horizontal sticks. Be as nimble as you want, Jack, but you're proper rogered come January 20, lad. Or maybe not. Stay tuned.
Anyway, thanks to the estimable Mr. KQ, who offered me a nice little holiday gift via Insta last week, we have the right soundtrack for today. With guitars! And video.
We pointed you to this a couple of years ago, a Cleveland-based School of Rock performance where some brilliant youth issued a cover of one of the finest punk anthems ever conceived. Amazingly good.
But now, let's travel back in time. Way, way back to December 29, 1988.
In a D.C. music box called the Wilson Center.
To the original.
From the originators.
Let's do this.
I say it again, punk rock will be a salve for the pain of the next chapter.
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