It was windy last night as I was walking to the Logan Square Auditorium. And I mean windy. As I strolled past the turn of the century two-stories north of Fullerton, I could hear the leaves constant rustling as background noise that reminded me of the recently-departed cicadas but sounded more like the wash of surf crashing far away. It was the first time I'd had the headspace to really notice the end of summer and beginning of the chilly onslaught that is Chicago from October through April.
After arriving and getting my ticket torn, I was given the most thorough pat-down I've recieved since forgetting to remove hair gel from my suitcase before going to O'Hare, which made me smile. Cleary the Empty Bottle and the show's other promoters were taking no chances with a hardcore crowd.
After arriving and getting my ticket torn, I was given the most thorough pat-down I've recieved since forgetting to remove hair gel from my suitcase before going to O'Hare, which made me smile. Cleary the Empty Bottle and the show's other promoters were taking no chances with a hardcore crowd.