We’re getting lost in the maze of UCSB, but my posse and I are making it to the show. The first band has started and we get right into the groove of the volcano about to erupt in front of an audience half my age. Fuck! I’m gonna show them how an old French bulldog can still leap off of the ground and do a few proud tricks!

We pass security with a big wide-open smile to meet my old mates from Sugarcult and The Coral Sea. I bumped into Tim Pagnotta, Sugarcult’s singer, and Marko, son of Jimmy Hendrix! I used to get fucked up with the two. I actually figured them in my first movie, “Tell Me No Lies”, some lame (if not for their kick-ass music), erotic thriller that still plays in a far, far away land (thank God!). I introduce them to famous Martin G. who, after all these years, is on top of the charts and making new waves across the oceans of Music Kingdom. James Garza and Rey Villalobos, fronting for The Coral Sea, join us and we’re time warping back into the late ‘90s when we were all just a bunch of happy drunks going from one gig to another every weekend, at the many bars of Santa Barbara: from Alex’s Cantina to Toes, to places whose names have been buried but not the rocking spirit. Then comes Airin, bass master from Sugarcult, and he introduces me to Kenny on the drums.

The show can start. Actually, even though I’m not drunk (this is my only major complaint of UCSB: buy a license and let the old dogs like me kill some more brain cells–it’s our choice if we want to meet the dude in the clouds before everybody else!), I can hear the velvet and porcelain voice of Rey breaking into “Look at Her Face.” I didn’t know the show had already kicked in.

Well, enough blah blah blah and here we are dwelling our souls into their pure and mesmerizing sound. The Coral Sea proves they are one of the last bands not yet signed with a major label that needs a serious break to set them on the right side of the Gods of Rock. Mother fuckers A&R executives, move your asses and contact my buddies before I come and vomit on your shoes: www.thecoralsea.net.

After closing their set with some of the most melodious poems ever gracing a stage, like “Ancient and Modern People” or “In Between the Days”, my martian attack dudes from Sugarcult (www.sugarcult.com) are raging like a storm falling into the crowed space of this concert hall. Girls are screaming–I can see them already being so wet and horny for blond stud Tim. I can feel the chaos is about to burst. Even I, the old dog that God almost killed last month with a lame hernia attack, is feeling the possession of his soul growing; my feet start a mad pogo; I’m elevating myself; I’m the Buddha reincarnated (right!); no pain–just a happy wild man! Young again! And here we are, stomping the night for over an hour, up in the air, down on our knees, flying above the crowd as a few of us surf with a maniacal smile and reach for the band on stage.

In between songs from their new album, “Light Out”, such as the brilliant “Los Angeles”, “Explode” or Riot”, the punks of Sugarcult give us also a trip down memory lane with now classic songs like “Stuck in America” or “Saying Goodbye”. And goodbyes we don’t want to hear–we won’t surrender to the end–to the night. Fuck that! The night is young and we are gods. So mother fuckers, keep on lighting the stage of our lives and let’s keep raging one day at the time through the chaos of our planet, as one rocking and mad happy people, united under the music, under God! Oi! Oi!

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