dream this morning:
there's a conversation about rain barrels and we're near some cleared farm land. we take a ride deep into the woods on a dirt road. the woods look very much like the ones behind my childhood home. after a while we come to a nondescript black structure that looks like it's made out of solid graphite. i can't see a roof. it's about the size of a small garage.
inside is an elevator that goes down four stories into the earth. there's some popular rock band who took their millions and built it. they are a bunch of professional skaters. they sound like Minus the Bear or whatever that style is called. it's part fallout shelter, part underground fortress and part rehearsal space. everything is flat black and coated with metal or marble. they tell me it's a 'long term construction' and 'friends can come over'.
on the second level down we stop. one of the guys in the band tells me he's been working on this 'sculpture' which is actually a carving into a wall between two elevators. it looks like he started with one thing and then changed his mind. he's asking my opinion. should it be a cartoonish image of a guy chugging a beer? i tell him 'i guess so?' but deep down i think it looks really dumb. i think one of the guys in the band was a huge drug addict (and is dead or off in rehab) and maybe the first version was him shooting up or something, then they modified the sculpture to be about drinking too much. either way it sucks.
we go down to the bottom level. there's an 'underground metal' show going on (pun intended?). i think it's a noisy metalcore band called Basilisk. it's so packed the crowd is halfway up the emergency stairs. i decide to wait until it's over. i run into some Coffinworm dudes and we're talking about how every band needs an underground fortress.
finally the noisy band is done and people are taking the elevators. the crowd thins so i go down the stairs and Monster Magnet is setting up. nobody in this crowd knows who they are, and those that do don't even care. i'm waiting for them to start jamming out in this underground bunker and it gets really cold. it's so cold i think there must be a ghost sucking the energy out of the room. as i turn to mention the ghostly cold to someone, i realize i am in bed, sleeping. my arm is hanging over the ice cold air blowing from a vent . then i'm awake and i can't get back to the bunker. show goes on without me. fak.