I just saw the Touch Me Theres play at Charlie's Kitchen. Now, Charlie's is a great place; the food is...pretty good for being a dive; the beer selection is very good (I typically go for Chimay on tap, since it's hard to find).
And the jukebox is without peer, at least around these parts. Tonight I heard some Deadbolt, which I never thought I'd hear outside of Sleazefest or some San Diego voodoobilly whorehouse (whatever that might be like). Or, I guess, my own apartment. Not that there's usually anything similar, hypothetically, about a San Diego whorehouse and my apartment. But I have seen some crazy shit in a go-go cage while (trying to) keep an eye on the tiki/reverb/death-surf stylings of Deadbolt, and I guess each time I hear them there's a bit of a Pavlovian response....
...Which, like many Pavlovian responses, wasn't rewarded this time. But regardless the point is that hearing Deadbolt on the jukebox is good. So that's another point in Charlie's favor.
And for the trifecta, by god, seeing the Touch Me Theres cover Gut Feeling, in a punked-out, lo-fi, amateurish kindofa, broken cymbals (which, frankly, sound shitty, but hey) bad sound, obstructed view sortofa dive bar way was completely sublime. Don the New Daddy Drummer sang backup vocals, and it was all just stupendous.
Somewhere Mothersbaugh is smiling. Even though he's not dead.