i once met a girl in a club whom tried to convince me 'tool' were the most important band ever. my girlfriend marie and her were in deep conversation and they suggested we go outside to her car to smoke a joint and listen to a cd of tool. i was off my chops on an e so i was quite happy to tag along, although i knew tool were not really my kinda band.  in those days the city was safe, it had a friendly vibe and everyone had their defences down, you could talk to strangers, it was a good period. live music flourished, sydney was like a 24 hour city and at 1am the streets were crowded and pulsing with people. as we walked up oxford street about seven people stopped to chat with us, i looked good in those days, slim, healthy, kinda kooky and wild. i guess youth has it's advantages, the women seemed to like me.

in the car i skinned up while marie and her friend were in some sort of deep conversation, marie attempting to engage me in discussion as we were explained about tools lyrics, everything from dmt to child abuse. well in theory they sounded interesting but when she slipped a cd into the tray and hit play a horrible noise interrupted my peace. fuck me, what an awful noise, that wretched heavy metal treated guitar with an awful screeching vocals i could never understand without a lyric sheet. awful, my whole body tensed up, meanwhile the girls seemed to be getting along very well. 

i don't know, this type of music does not work for me. i mean in theory i dig it, yeah an out there kinda band doing risque tunes about heavy duty issues. it's all culture but i guess when i hear this type of music it makes me appreciate the music i like even more. 

anyways i smoked my spliff, on an eccy high with two stunning girls who were getting on in an intimate way at the back of the car and i stared out the window (occasionally in the rearview mirror) and although the music grated my nerves i felt okay, you know, it was a different time period, people wandered by on the street, lots of strange sydney siders at 3am either on their way home or looking for the next thrill. everything was good, except that awful racket 'tool' made.