beachstock

So, I heard that there's an annual festival of tribute bands in Long Beach. It's s'pposed to be the best there is, so I thought I'd have a go at it. Between the dreary weather and the Queen Mary loomin' in the background, I felt right at home. We got there a tad late but I can't say that I'm that heartbroken about missing Jethro Tull, Jefferson Airplane and Grateful Dead tribute bands. We walked up to the strains of faithfully accurate Heart covers done by a band called, you guessed it, Barracuda. I quite liked 'em. I mean, we named "Stop Crying Your Heart Out" after 'em, didn't we? Still, I was hoping that the singer from a Loverboy tribute band would come out for that one song. You know, THAT one! No such luck.

We walked around to take in the lovely festival atmosphere. Lots of bored vendors sitting around wondering why there weren't more than a couple of hundred people showing up to see people dressed up to do what amounts to glorified karaoke, right? Next up was a perfectly mediocre Beatles band called Ticket To Ride. Paul wasn't right handed, was he? Oh well, their accents were awright, though I think Noel's version of "Imagine" is better. There's something about Americans trying to be cheeky fab that just don't sit well with me. Rocks, an Aerosmith tribute came on and some twat pranced about while placing the word "honey" at the end of every sentence. I kept waiting for a Run DMC tribute to show up and kick their arse. Wishful thinking, that.

Next up was Peace Frog, a fookin' deadly Jim Morrison impersonator backed by three blokes who didn't remotely resemble the Doors. Is it so bleeding hard to not wear a backwards ballcap and shorts for fuck's sake?! 'Twas a shame about the band because the geezer in the leather pants was right on, 'specially when he did all them Lizard Kingy-wingy hops, skips and jumps. Did I mention that the backdrop for the whole thing was a huge tye-dye nightmare? There outta be a law, as you Americans say.

Last up was a Rolling Stones tribute by the name of Sticky Fingers. They had their good points and their bad points. Keef was dead-on. Lotsa hitting notes and then quickly lettin' go with both hands. Nice. I suppose having a Mick Taylor type on lead guitar was awright, considering the band name. Someone needs to make sure the bassist doesn't move AT ALL. He's the only one that gets to do the Oasis comotose thing but he couldn't help but bob his head, could he? Mick ("Dick Swagger") had the voice down but I'll be damned if he didn't look like that arse from the Strokes doing perfect Jagger moves in slow motion. It was comedy!

They cut 'em short so they could do an all-star jam which reminded me of us getting chucked off at Beatlefair. "Dick" got sarcastic which I whole-heartedly approved of, me. I'd be a bit mental too if I got kicked off so that people dressed as, fookin' get this, Steven Tyler, Rod Stewart, Jim Morrison, and Carlos Santana could get up and do "Play That Funky Music". Dear lord. Maybe it's best we didn't play.