Live

Texas Trash and the Trainwrecks with Sedusa, Flycatcher, Saturday, Sept. 20

Last Saturday afternoon, I got into the car to make the long trek from my place on the far westside to visit some old friends—a married couple—close to the edge of Tucson's city limits on the east. The last time I'd visited them was at their baby shower, about 18 months ago. They had a son a few weeks after—their first child—and for the kind of reasons that are stupidly insignificant five minutes after they pass, this was my first time meeting the boy and being exposed to the new life of my friends.

Though it could very well be the product of my own projections, the mood on the way to their house and upon my arrival was desolate for a variety of reasons.

That said, dinner was wonderful as were the conversations. We moved to the subject of change. It started off about music and old times and "remember when...?" After some horrifyingly embarrassing recollections of the kind of antics you pull when you're 22 and invincible—which perhaps even more sad was that I thought these bad choices are still really, really funny—the husband, whom I've watched play incredible music for almost 20 years, began to speak more broadly. I wisely shut up. (The following is based on memory.)

"Do you think that a band or scene could mean as much as it used to? I don't. We say what we want and then when we get it, we don't want it anymore. And it's not just music.

"We ask for a leader that we don't want to follow. We have so many choices in life but we can't find the right one. I think that we're all confused. We don't know what we want anymore. How can we get what we want, get what will make us happy, when we have no idea what will make us happy? I feel like we're all lost and don't know what to believe in."

I couldn't have agreed more: This is what happens when there are too many options. Chaos has gone from fringe to normalcy and people feel alone and confused.

I left and went to The Flycatcher, where Texas Trash and the Trainwrecks and its audience likely think this is utter bullshit. And for the young Phoenix grrrl-punk trio Sedusa, it's not even an issue. I felt better about things.