The death of The Conniptions

I've just been able to process the incredible power of The Conniptions final show. It was amazing. They hated the hell out of each other but decided to get the band together and start anew. And they did, for one show. I'm sure after hours of practicing and song writing, new songs that debuted and died in one night, they had planned on a long term engagement. But it wasn't to be.

Jessie and Jason drummed and guitarted the hell out of themselves after wrecking the car, dealing with all the drama and shit, and with very few drinks. Andy smirked and sang the hell out of every song. He tore his guitar up. His tone was amazing. The best I had ever heard him sound. And Jason Loftin on the bass played one of the most amazing sets I had ever, ever seen. It was like Bruce Thomas, Entwistle, John Paul Jones, and Tim Tobias were inside of his head kicking and screaming to get out. He had such command over his instrument. Aggressive, confident, and aloof.

The Conniptions were on the Lindberg's stage with such power that I stood there grinning because I felt so fucking lucky to be in the room. Their songs are a mix of Big Star bravado, Television mastery, and Stooges blitzkrieg. And to top it off, I hadn't heard a live Guided By Voices song in seven years and they plowed through "Game of Pricks" and "Motor Away." I felt like a legionnaire again being sent off to battle. Like I felt at every GBV show. As if this day was my last and what the war held for me was up to Pollard.

It's too bad that they had to breakup.