Last night's unpleasant dreams included: the Smashing Pumpkins were playing in Edmonton, but for some reason they completely bailed out, and the Dangereus had to pretend to be them in performance. At least that's how it seemed in retrospect. At the time, it was just like: shit, for some reason they've got me playing James Iha's guitar parts. I've never even listened to the Smashing Pumpkins. I sure don't know how to play the guitar. I bumbled through one song playing a bunch of random notes really quietly, and then I and [Tezcatlipoca] (yeah, you were there too) went backstage to confer about something before the next one. I had a microphone that I was nervously fiddling with, not realizing it was connected to the sound system, so the entire audience heard my nervous heavy breathing and mumbled complaints. We came back out and the entire audience had left except for a bunch of naïvely smiling grannies sitting in the front few rows (who clearly had no idea that this is not what a rock concert was supposed to sound like). I looked around in dismay. Then I decided to propose to the rest of the band: to hell with this Smashing Pumpkins shit! We could either play a really godawful SP concert or a really *awesome* Dangereus show. Strangely, boys, you were pretty hard to convince. Somehow before we played I ended up answering a question from a woman in one of the front rows: she wanted to know whether our music was "dangerous" because we were just sort of making it up and thus at great personal risk of fucking it up or something. Disturbed that she seemed to be familiar with our band's appellation and debut album, I asked her why she chose that particular word—but then I noticed it was [the ex-girlfriend of former Dangereu Garga Wash].