Contributed by an Anonymous Source. Posted by aubin on Tuesday, May 13, 2008 at 8:00 PM (EDT)
Rancid have announced more dates in September and October. The new shows include a five day stay in Los Angeles in October, and shows on the Canadian West Coast.
my friend's band is actually opening up at the ventura theatre show. I wonder who is opening up at the other dates. I'm hoping for aggrolites at at least one of them.
my frends band are opening for them in minnesota. not enough of a reason for me to pay 25 bucks to see rancid without bret reed.
ill keep my money and my time thank you very much.
i see your point.
i think its more of the fact that i hate everything and everyone associated with the used. past or present.
if matt freeman ever leaves rancid i will never listen to them again. for me, he is the only really great member of that band.
I'm still here. All I know is they better fuckin play Oregon! On their last tour a year or 2 ago they played Seattle 2 nights and Idaho 1 night (I think) and now they are playing Seattle again, yet Oregon is still lacking a show. All I want is to see Rancid play "Journey Til The End of The East Bay" one time live before I die.
so they hit LA and a whole bunch of crappy towns, but they won't come through San Diego? I am rolling to LA now, but the gas prices are making me bitter...
Well, they were upset when they thought they weren't playing out west. Now it is apparent that they are. Why would they show up here? Just to admit they're wrong? Goddamn you're a fucking idiot.
less than jake is playing the 9/12 and 9/14 show, i fucking wish i could see this, my 2 favorite bands playing together, i fucking would love to see that, well i have, but warped tour doesn't count.
They've never been good at announcing and sticking to dates long ahead of time, but they have said June for a little while, though I haven't heard anything more specific as we've gotten closer, so I have to imagine that it will come out in July, maybe August, even though Gurewitz said it's done.
It takes big labels like warners 2-3 months to gear up for a promotional cycle - it takes time to create and print poster, buy adspace, get advance copies to critics/schmooze the press, etc. Because everything operate on such a massive scale in the behemoth and I imagine everything needs to get signed off by a billion people, it takes a while for a campaign to come together.
A two night stand at The Warfield? Fuck! I hate that place, and the staff are incredibly rude (Not like Slims, where the staff is incredibly awesome!)...... as if they couldn't find another adequate venue in the entire city of San Francisco....
yeah, so were his new tattoos..., funny how of all people, they got that guy to play for them... He's a decent drummer though, I saw them at SOTY a couple years back, and he did quite well, even during the Old Friend/Time Bomb/OPIV stuff....
I still think they should Brett back, but hey, I'd probably get sick of this too
Tim Armstrong killed the forty and threw it at the floor. It hit the carpet with a muted tink. He looked around at the remains of the evening: empties strewn about, the record player skipping the same fifteen seconds of a U.S. Bombs song, Branden and Travis drunkenly spooning on the floor, drumsticks still clenched firmly in their hands. "Kinacute", Tim muttered to himself.
Just then, a loud flush was heard as Lars Frederiksen kicked the bathroom door open. "BITCHES AND HOS!" he yelled loudly. Tim stared at him glassily.
"Whayuwanndonow?" Tim slurred, his speech completely unaffected by the alcohol.
"I dunno," Lars shrugged. "Wanna get some hookers?"
"Nah'mnotrellinothatonight," Tim dismissed. Then, unexpectedly, the tears began to well up. "Ohgawimisser!"
"Oh, fuck, here comes the bitch juice," Lars lamented. He moved over to the couch to comfort
show rest of commentTim Armstrong killed the forty and threw it at the floor. It hit the carpet with a muted tink. He looked around at the remains of the evening: empties strewn about, the record player skipping the same fifteen seconds of a U.S. Bombs song, Branden and Travis drunkenly spooning on the floor, drumsticks still clenched firmly in their hands. "Kinacute", Tim muttered to himself.
Just then, a loud flush was heard as Lars Frederiksen kicked the bathroom door open. "BITCHES AND HOS!" he yelled loudly. Tim stared at him glassily.
"Whayuwanndonow?" Tim slurred, his speech completely unaffected by the alcohol.
"I dunno," Lars shrugged. "Wanna get some hookers?"
"Nah'mnotrellinothatonight," Tim dismissed. Then, unexpectedly, the tears began to well up. "Ohgawimisser!"
"Oh, fuck, here comes the bitch juice," Lars lamented. He moved over to the couch to comfort Tim. "Hey, man, it ain't your fault. You did nothing. It was all her and that Desperate Housewives-lookin' motherfucker."
Tim buried his head into Lars's chest and continued to sob. "Illneermeeawunlikeragaaaaaaiiiii," he cried.
Lars took his old friend's head into his hands, tenderly, and began to kiss his tears away. "There, there," he purred. "Everything's gonna be all right, we're married to the sea, man, we're married to the sea."
Tim suddenly kissed Lars on the mouth, getting lost in his gruff biker mustache. Before he knew it, the favor was being returned tenfold as Tim found himself pinned down on the couch under the larger man's girth.
"Fuhme," Tim managed to say. "Fuhme." Without a word, Lars flipped Tim over and went to work. He undid Tim's belt and pulled his pants down, then reached into his own pants to retrieve his stiffening member. "Larswhawoulidowivvouchu?" Tim asked passionately.
"Writin' songs for Avril Lavigne, man," Lars replied as he plunged deeply into the older man. "I AM THE VIKING!"
I would love it if they could squeeze a California date in here.