Some Free Advice.
To the younger folks out there who want to play in one of those bands where you comb you hair with an egg beater, strip down to your waist, hang the guitar somewhere south of your sharona and slam away on power chords in full distortion mode while hopping all over the stage like a crack-driven kangaroo, I say, fine.
But before you expect me to think you’re a player, you and your band mates should be able to play and sing one tenth as well as the Eagles. Show me that, and then I just might take your bullshit noise seriously.
That is all.
