All the great bands started in somebody's garage....making loud noise. Last night, I was drawn across campus to the bowels of The Den, where--in a cluttered, god-forsaken room--four hard rockers were doing just what they should: making loud noises.
Someday, when they're packing them into the Tweeter Center, we'll say "We knew you when.... When you were just loud...." They will be swarmed by groupies.
They're dripping with talent and sweat, and they think they've got a name....but I forget what it is....
Tens of thousands of fans will scream with approval as the band credits Proctor with providing the creative soil in which they could root and grow.... Maybe not. Jim Morrison would have used a more poetic metaphor.
They'll need a writer to author the text for Rolling Stone and the screenplay for their movie....
