As you can tell, I have no truck with love, except in the reptilian sense. It's never done me any good--both my patience and my orbit have been decayed by the sucking leechhood that is human companionship. And this show was originally done in 1997--four years before the morning Mr JFK chose to broach the subject of divorce, not realizing it was fucking VALENTINE'S DAY. If I had done this show then, my recorded insights would have been exponentially more wounded and trenchant. This is just the background level of love suckage.
Love...don't talk to *me* about LOVE. *ptui!!!*
As it is, this show has sat in tape form in the Vault for fifteen years, so it was due a digital retooling. I was trying to edit passages of songs together on tape to lame effect, so fixing this one meant that I was up until 6:30 this morning trying to re-edit it. I think I missed working a couple segues in on either end of punk song, so you can hear what my shit sounds like without the cushioning--and I didn't have time to take all the pops out, so it sounds like vinyl.
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