Entrance is a "Fuck Yeeeeah"

Guy Blakeslee of The Entrance Band slayed on the guitar and was the dominating force of Saturday's Fuck Yeah festivities, as far as I am concerned. His bearded Messiah/revolutionary look got me pretty hot too:

They played at the Rec Center which became engulfed by an overwhelmingly putrid stench shortly before the end of their set. Someone (or multiple persons) had let one go, and it was nuclear. We decided that the poo smell might actually have been the band's fault--what with all that heavy rockin' hittin' our guts, it is possible that everyone in the crowd accidentally emitted a small amount of gas at the same time, creating the resultant cloud of foulness.

NAME-CHECKS:

I bumped into Lavender Diamond's Becky Stark by the artist check-in. She was sweet and spacey and wearing something odd that was covered in opaque mother-of-pearl sequins. Said hi to Erin Garcia of Brother Reade outside the Echo shortly before his set. Saw the organizer Sean Carlson running down the street looking happy. But then he always looks happy. Chatted up A&R goddess Laurel Stearns, who was with her BF, who plays in Joshua Tree's Thriftstore Allstars. Headbanged a little with the kindest, hardest-working young man in music, Josh Frankfort of Shmanagement. And mentally high-fived Metromix's blondely-bearded Associate Editor of Rad, George Ducker, who loaned me ten bucks last week.

I felt bad for all the sorry muthas standing in line behind the Echoplex to pick up their will-call tickets. Literally hundreds of poor humans stood in a miserable line that snaked around the side of the building. But it did prove one thing--just how sexy and popular Fuck Yeah has become.

Which may or may not be a good thing for the event itself.