Power Love

THINGS WITH KNOBS WORLD PREMIERE!

Alert Power Love readers will note there was a reading this past Sunday, but it was not a reading it was A CAUCOPHONY OF MIND BLOWING MIND BLOWINGNESS. We invaded Sunday Salon's space for a night and they are damn good people to let us do so.

JoeTower read first. We couldn't afford lights so Joe read in the dark. Then Jeff went outside and sold Things With Knobs t-shirts and then we had a billion dollars so we bought electricity with it. And alcohol.

Then Jeff read. Jeff read in the dark, too, even though by that point we were living high on the hog, so to speak, and had lights. Jeff wanted to make a statement about how people live their whole lives in the dark and something about close-mindedness, which I think is bad, I guess, I don't know, I missed the end of the statement. I was busy getting interviewed by Access Hollywood.

Then . . .

THE WORLD PREMIERE OF THINGS WITH KNOBS THE BEST BAND EVER IN THE WHOLE WIDE UNIVERSE EVER EVER EVER. I am not making this up. The press materials that I made up clearly said "We are the best."

For context, you might want to know that I wrote a story about sucking ass at a job in which I was the official office ass sucker and I had lots of daydreams about being a rock star.

Originally, the story was supposed to be about me and my rock band. But we didn't have a rock band. And when I say "we," I mean, I don't know any rock bands. In addition, I have no musical talent whatsoever, despite the fact that I insist on singing "Edge of Seventeen" whenever I drink more than 2 beers, even when it's not playing on the jukebox or anywhere else in the world for that matter. Sometimes, I think I sound like Stevie Nicks. You would think so, too, if you were drunk and you had a pillow case over your head and you happened to be laying underneath a pool table.

Luckily, Misha has enough talent for him and me and the entire universe and also he lives behind the Fortress of Sound, which coincidentally could pass for one-half of an electronica band and voila! We are an electronica band. Except I don't sing, I just read my story. And also, I am the resident t-shirt maker. The t-shirts say: Things With Knobs, because that is the name of our band. No self respecting band would show up to a show without "merch," as we say in the "biz."

So then we rocked it. Except I kinda blew the first paragraph, so technically, I didn't rock it. Misha rocked it. I sorta square-danced it. Luckily, I wrote notes to myself so I wouldn't screw up. Things like: PAUSE! and QUIT SPITTING! and IS THAT SPINACH IN YOUR FRONT TEETH? All the things you want to hear when you're standing in front of a microphone in a room filled with people you don't know.

So then we finished and everyone in the entire bar stood up and screamed and yelled and clicked on their lighters and fainted from sheer joy and then ordered more drinks and played pool.

Forthcoming from Things With Knobs: A fan club; a MySpace

page; a hot-selling debut album; a mediocre second album; an exhaustive world tour; multiple scandalous episodes including but not limited to alcoholic overconsumption, excessive gobbling of hallucinogenic drugs, various crashes involving high-performance sports cars, one crash in the Pyrenees involving a high-performance, Italian-made bicycle; irreconcilable creative differences; a wickedly public breakup; utterly unmagical solo albums; a secret reunion; a full-page spread in both Chicago dailies announcing the secret reunion; a reunion tour; $375 tickets to the reunion tour; gray hair; a winery in Napa; a VH1 Behind the Music special; a condo on Mars; a snarky public feud with Mick Jagger; cameo appearances in The Return of Animal House.

Good times!

And now, back to the evening:

Jeff is looking at the bar and thinking, "Why are we outside when