SO, YOU FUCKING QUIT. SERIOUSLY? -
RRC Forums poster, wrote:
I've FQ, Sed (even if it's just for the present moment in time)....So,
for now I'm totally fucking done.
It doesn't sound like he FQSed at all. In fact, he is merely "between
does "FQS" mean? It
was the advice at the end of this article.
this forum poster has "Fucking Quit. Seriously". The
state of FQS is truly a horrific state for a Municipal Rock Stars.
Without a band, they are relegated to acoustic sets opening for
bands that are clearly inferior to their old bands. Sure, they
finally get to have their actual name on the bill...("Featuring
GuruNEVAR, formerly of My Uncle Chuck")...as it rightfully
should have been when they were with their old bands...after all,
they were the real talent in the band... but it's not the same.
No, without a band, they're stuck on the bottom of the bill right
before KradleKap and right after Happy Hour.
run-of-the-mill attention whore can throw together a one-off gimmick
act for a TRIBUET SHOW
or Halloween show, but the truly attention-starved...a singer
or guitar player...they need more. Their adoring public is fickle.
Band dudes who have FQSed can jabber online about the project
they're assembling that will take awesomosity to previously inconceivable
levels, but only for so long. A true band dude has to be out there,
in the bars, on the plywood, soaking up the adulation.
out to other, worse bands' shows every single weekend will keep
their faces out there, but the free drinks will start to taper
off as their Municipal Q Rating fades. An ex band-dude glad-handing
at bars every weekend with no band of his own looks slightly more
desperate than actually being in a real band or running a website
dedicated to ripping on bands. In short, it's not pretty.
dudes carry their acoustic guitars everywhere they go in hopes
that someone...anyone...at a party or cookout will say "Hey,
weren't you in that one band? Babyhead something? Didn't you guys
do a song about fire and desire?" The attention-starved bandless
dude will say immediately "Hey, I just happen to have my
acoustic in the car! I'll go get it and play 'Fire of Desire'
for you!" The marginally interested party will undoubtedly
say "Oh, you don't have to do that..." but it will be
too late. The bandless dude will be well into the chorus by then.
me to the fire...of your desire...we can go higher..."
to the attention-starved bandless dude: Settle. Do not tarry.
wait for an awesome 19 year-old sexy drummer who possesses a fiery
drive to do whatever it takes to MAEK IT and a brand-new set of
for a fat guy who owns several drums and a pick-up in which to
wait for a fashion-plate bassist who is so connected he can buy
shoes on an international level...and not just Chuck Taylors,
we're talking Kenneth Coles and Pradas...with the skills of a
sober Jaco and the looks of a young John Taylor.
some girl you know a Squier P-Bass and a DI box.
not how good your band is, it's how quickly you can get up in
front of people and how often.
put it another way, a weekend night spent at home is a weekend
night not being paid attention to. At home on a weekend night,
watching an SNL rerun in your underwear, you can't loudly make
a production of ordering a round for you and the dog. Your dog
home on a weekend night, you can't lean in close and blast your
dog in the face with your sweet-sour whiskey breath, talking shit
about an imaginary connection in LA who is probably going to get
you on a soundtrack to an independent film. Your dog won't be
at 3:00 a.m., you can be reasonably certain that your dog will
not offer you a bump or a rail or whatever cutesy euphemism you
and your pals use for snorting cocaine. Your dog won't offer you
a binger, a fatty or whatever cutesy euphemism you and your pals
use for smoking weed. You dog doesn't have a cel phone.
finally, if you're at home on a weekend night, you can't ply your
dog with alcohol to the point where she is only semi-conscious,
then clumsily paw at her teats and force your fingers down her
pants and into her dry vagina with one hand and masturbate with
the other in a futile attempt to maintain a spongy erection as
a prelude to what can legally be called rape in all fifty states.
It's a dog. That would be wrong to do to a dog.
not forget that it is impossible to share your art with the world
when you're at home on a weekend night. Think of it! It is almost
criminal to deprive society, as a whole, of such a precious gift.
why you do it, right? To let your heart and soul soar higher and
higher on the gossamer wings of a crystal angelic unicorn through
rainbow fires of desire and fire? You have the heart and soul
of an artist and the world must NOT be denied your vision.
out there and get that band together, you pathetic attention whore,
you. You know you're gonna. Why fight it?
didn't FQS. You're just a Tweener.