Well, it was a Sunday night, so attendance expectations were low, but in light of the quality of The Glasspack's set, any fans of high energy rock & roll who chose to rest up for work missed a blistering performance. The Atomic Cantina was where it went down.

The third band, Scenester, had cancelled, so DRS went on later than expected. We've finally gotten our shit back together now that John's wrist is recovered enough to drum again, just in time for our trip to Mesa, AZ for SHoD VIII. We announced our return to the stage with great bombast, busting out the SHoD set for a handful of folks. Felt good.

The Glasspack is only a few shows into their US tour, and they had overcome locking the keys in their van with the domelight on earlier in the evening with the help of AAA, so they were ready to rock. A few more people had trickled in by that time, but the band played to a mostly empty room. Understandably, they started out a bit listlessly, but soon were in full groove mode. Dirty Dave's Telecaster was spitting flames and Big Muff thunder into the air, the rhythm section providing a roiling and throbbing undertow as Dirty Dave screamed & shouted the gospel of RAWK.

The Glasspack melds the energy of punk to their own greasy brand of raucus Kentucky rock & roll, and they had us bouncing around in front of the stage in short order. Once they had worked up a head of steam, they plowed through a short but blazing set that left us wanting more.

Thanks to the few who came out, including Brian of Black Maria notoriety.