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Bands Kyle Hates #4: "GODSMACK"

by Kyle Sowash

About two years ago, I worked as a delivery boy for a sandwich shop that hosted rock concerts. One night, a popular '80s hard rock band named Warrant played at this sandwich shop. The restaurant's 300-person capacity bobbed their mullets to timeless classics like "I Saw Red" and "Cherry Pie." What a blast.

After the show, the local butt-rock radio station promoted a concert for an up-and-coming butt-rock band named GODSMACK. Station hands tried flyering every concertgoer as they orderly exited outside. After everyone left, the radio station realized they'd brought too many flyers-about 600 too many.

Now, my boss was a frugal man. He always yelled at me for putting too much avocado on sandwiches and using too much foil to wrap the pickles. His thrifty instincts led him to snatch those leftover flyers from the back of the station's van and use them as restaurant stationery. From that day forward, my boss wrote the daily grocery list on the back of these flyers.

Part of my delivery boy duties entailed purchasing the daily groceries. So, every morning, I caught a glimpse of GODSMACK on every grocery list. I thought nothing of it, simply associating some shitty band with five-pound bags of Vidalia onions.

About two weeks after receiving the flyers, I took a part-time job at a record store. The clientele, as I soon discovered, largely consisted of GODSMACK fans. They were really, really excited about their new record and the upcoming concert. Every afternoon, customers would say things to me like, "Yo, you got that new GODSMACK CD?" or "Gimee two of them GODSMACK tickets, yo." After a few days of THAT, the band really started grating my nerves. While fighting old ladies for the fattest tomatoes, delivering sandwiches, making shitty tips, then rushing to the record store to assist customers, I was living, eating, and breathing GODSMACK. This was before I even heard them.

Then I heard them. I don't know what song it was, but it became clear that this was indeed the polar opposite of good music. They took their name from an Alice in Chains song, for Christ's sake.

We ran out of tickets about a week before their show. I took immense pleasure in denying their fans a chance at happiness. That may make me a bad person, but I'd been punished enough. You see, even after the big concert I couldn't escape. Every morning, while squeezing avocados and selecting leafy heads of lettuce, GODSMACK taunted me. Their mass-produced flyer made possible a ceaseless stream of grocery lists that I despised exponentially each day until, four produce-filled months later, I quit.

GODSMACK, I hate you.









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