Tokyo, August, 8 1999
Christ, I feel like Godzilla over here. The doors to the subways are shorter and I smashed my goddamned head a few times much to the amusement of the other riders. Rick had been here a couple of times and knew his way around, so me and Joe went with him to a couple of cool places, electronics and toys. We couldn’t agree where to eat so Rick said “fuck you” and took off. What an asshole, let me tell you it’s hard being lost in Tokyo. We finally got back to the hotel. I fuckin’ hate Rick, but Japan is pretty great. I wish we had more time here.
Wow, we’re playing Cains Ballroom. The Sex Pistols and Hank Williams played here. There’s a bunch of cool old pictures inside, my favorite is a giant picture of Spade Cooley. Unfortunately it’s kind of a dump and it’s hot as ass. Out back of the club there’s a bunch of cement squares, sidewalk sized with handprints of people who played there, we weren’t asked. There’s a print shop out back run by a couple of freaks, they had cool posters and shirts and told me about “the Green Corn Rebellion” and then gave me sheaf of photocopied papers about it. I should read it but it looks pretty daunting.