There's a lot about Seattle that annoys me, but one thing in particular puts a queen-size bee in my constantly buzzing bonnet. I have to ask: Does anyone in this Godforsaken land of No-One-Left-to-Do have a goddamn clue as to how to end a relationship? People break up, but they sure as shit don't move on. They just move to the couch. Or someone's linty floor, taking baby steps toward a new beginning. But I'm on to you. In reality, you're all just feigning independence while waiting until one or the other gets off their ever-widening duff and admits, "Hey, we might have had a good thing going at one time, no matter how ill-conceived or ridiculous it's seemed lately, and well, since you're still here...." Then it's off the couch and into my bonnet. And that goes double for bands.

Now I didn't believe for a second that the Presidents of the United States of America had one serious bone in their wangy, cartoony bodies when they claimed to have called it a day. After all, there's a whole grocery store full of canned foodstuffs to write catchy ditties about. Don't give up now! Mandarin oranges and gooseberries are just begging to be exploited. However, I thought more time would pass--or at least one of the trio's side projects would have become hugely famous-- before they'd trot out the glorified goofiness all over again. BUT--and please, go ahead and call me an idiot, because I'll never learn if you don't--I actually thought the Posies, of all people, would give it a rest longer than they did.

I LOVE the Posies, more now than ever before. But what's the ding with all the acoustic "reunion" shows, for crying out loud? Jon and Ken, Ken and Jon, Jon and then Ken.... The first one, a couple of months back at the Showbox, was a musical gift--especially after Ken Stringfellow's ex-wife (and Fastbacks frontwoman) Kim Warnick barged her way to the stage and demanded--mid-song--that the duo cease playing new tunes and unfurl some of the golden oldies and obscure album tracks that all the faithful fans in attendance surely hoped to hear. It's only fair to wax nostalgic when you've broken up and then willy-nilly decided to get back together again, isn't it?

But last Friday at the Crocodile was what seemed to be about the 432nd acoustic "reunion" show for Ken and Jon, and guess what? It was ill-attended. Go figure. Matter of fact, just sitting here typing, I'm working myself into an anticipatory migraine as it dawns all around me that surely, with the acoustic shows wearing thin--as sure as the pope is Catholic--a full-on, all-electric Posies "reunion" is just around the corner, and the corner after that, and the weekend after that, and so on. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Hey, remember a while back when the former Gin Blossoms, now called the Gas Giants, came to town and got all bent out of shape when exactly 10 people came to their show at the Breakroom? And remember how the best applause was garnered by their ripping cover of "Under Pressure"? Well, they came back to town last weekend, paid $2,200 room rent to play a free show at Graceland, and even handed out four cases of Bugles, as it was that fine finger snack which sponsored the show. And still nobody showed. Ha!

It's good to be back.