BACK IN THE 90S, there used to be this band called Kyuss—a dirty little four-piece bent on channeling early Black Sabbath grooves into the fuzz pedal generation. They had a decent cult following and a so-so singer, but that guitarist,Josh Homme, played like a circus strongman heaving on an iron rod.
So when Kyuss broke up and Homme’s new band came to play Call The Office, a bar in my college town in southern Ontario, I wasn’t going to let that circus leave town without seeing it.
The bar was a dingy, badly lit place with a sticky floor. Admission was ten dollars and there were maybe twenty-five people there. I was one of a few savvy to whom they were coming to see and very excited about it. “It’s the guitar player from Kyuss!” I’d say to people who had come in from the Canadian January to get warm, have a pint and see whatever live music was on that night. “Who?” most replied, furrowed and still rubbing their numb hands together.