LettersWe welcome and read your comments: editor@tucsonunderground.com. We reply as often as we can. Thanks for supporting Tucson Underground. I hope you have started a hall of infamy for all those jealous, self-obsessed Legend wannabes / or kicked them in the nalgas! - CB Spring 2004 Very good to be signed up for the monsoons [monsoon
list] ! I love it! "Great website! I love it. I couldn't help but notice the absence of The Weid Lovemakers on your Legends page. Shame on you! (Okay, this is one man's humble opinion). I hope your website enjoys great success! Get some more photos on there! I love the photos on the site. Nice work. Cheers, Elwood, Fall 2003 Hi there - Glad to find your site with some updates on Dave Slutes. I've been a fan since the Sidewinders' "Witchdoctor" release and have followed him through the Sand Rubies incarnation ... Was wondering what he's up to now... I see the mention of The Zsa Zsas, but no idea if they do albums, just live cover songs, or what. Any info you could provide would be great. Thanks! Andy, Winter 2003 [Andy, check out our page on the ZsaZsas! - editor] Hello- I thought I would introduce myself and present Black
Sun Ensemble for the Legends catagory. Although Black Sun has had
several infamous incedents in the past, the band is about to celebrate
its 20th year and was one of three bands from Tucson to be invited
to SXSW this year. (Calexico, Amor, Black Sun) We are very active
and have a strong following all over the world, have been reviewed
in publications from Rolling Stone magazine to the Sunday
London Times and have some interesting stories along the
way. *Black Sun opened for Camper Van Beethoven on the Key Lime
Pie Tour *Heather McCartney was a big Black Sun fan, got arrested
with them in LA & passed a Tarot card with her father's number for
a non-incarcerated band member to phone home. *Jesus was a good
friend of Rainer and has some great stories about the Chicago Store.
If you are interested in doing something, I could provide a more
comprehensive bio. Your also welcome to visit I met you at Sean and Greg's party- & then met again when you recognized Cappy, Sean's dog outside The Cup... well although one could say I am slower than the average bear, I just failed to realize your project you told us to check out is really coming along! Congrats and hope to see you around :) - CV Fall 2003 From: [name withheld]@aol.com make origami I can not belive the painfully missing componenets
of the underground scene !!!!! wheres Flam
Chen the international fire theater troop based here that happens
to be a major part of the Tucson arts coalition... how about the
tucson arts coalition?
or Biccas? Or Matt bevel Studio? Or Mole Hill Orkestra? Day of the
dead? (Dia De Los Muertos?) Satori? Clown Band? Puppet
works? The old Fine Line and Dick... who ask and hard core undergrounder
in this city is the grandfather of all undergrounf here... including
asylum you know the owner
and djs there all got there start at the old fine line. How about
Rock Horror and Hedwig? Sureal productions and there raves that
are asstounding? your welcome to harvest links from my yahoo group
and read back posts... good fodder for you I think. Hi, Cia: With somber and tormented apologies to Clement C. Moore 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through our house was blasting the "St. Vitus Dance" by Bauhaus; Torn fishnets were draped on my forearms with care, And two cans of Aquanet applied to my hair; My thoughts were of graveyards, and horror and dread, Black visions of pain and despair in my head; And Bianca, whose face was as pale as the moon, Had thrown up her arm for this evening's swoon, When out by the gravestones there came such a clatter, I sprang from the coffin to find out the matter. Away to the window I flew like a ghost, Expecting to find a dark devilish host. The moon on the breast of the uncaring snow Threw ominous shadows on objects below, When, before my tormented eyes did traverse, But a gorgeous black Crane & Breed carved-panel hearse, With a gaunt, shrouded driver, who filled me with fear, And eight skeletal creatures that might have been deer. More rapid than vultures his coursers they came, And his deep Andrew Eldritch voice called them by name; Now, Murphy! Now, Morgoth! Now, Torment and Woe! On, Dreadful! On, Lovecraft! Mephisto and Poe! To the top of the gravestones where fog wisps its breath! With a weight on my soul I consign you to death! As dead leaves that before hellish hurricanes fly, When they flutter like giant bats' wings to the sky, So up to the crypt-top the coursers they leapt, While dearest Bianca, like death, still but slept. And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof The clicking and scratching of each bone-white hoof. As I drew in my arm, and was whirling around, Down the ebony chimney he came without sound. He was clad all in black, and he looked oh-so-goth, A billowy ensemble of crushed velvet cloth; His boots were knee-high, quite buckled and zipped, And the Spandex and fishnets 'round his legs were ripped. His eyes glowed with bluish fire, deathly and cold, A black eye-liner'd face neither youthful nor old. A broad lipless mouth drawn with torment and hurt, And his sorrowful face was as white as my shirt. A smoldering cigarette tight in his grasp, Its smoke curling eerily 'round his cloak clasp; His gaunt frame was topped with long ebon hair, And a sharp scent of brimstone and cloves choked the air. His arms were outspread in the shape of a cross, And I quailed when I saw him, feeling sorrow and loss; He narrowed his eyes with a twist of his head, And I felt the full weight of his angst and dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task, Left some Dead Can Dance CD's; before I could ask, A single tear fell across his aquiline nose, And then, like an angel, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his hearse, to his team he then hissed, And away they all drifted like early dawn's mist. But I heard him intone, ere he vanished from sight, "Gothic Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!" - Jae, Christmas 2003 Saw your ad on the back page of the weekly yesterday. From: "John Falkenstine" |
