My Dutch friend Guus’s recent introduction to Pabst Blue Ribbon got me thinking back to the days I wandered around Sleazefest, where PBR was prevalent. Few shows can make me willingly stand in a sweaty, smoke-filled room for hours on end, but Sleazefest could. Bands right in front of you (and sometimes on top of you) played sloppy surf rock while girls wearing bumper stickers shimmied in cages. Three days and multiple stages! Man, that show was a blast.
Last year, the Indy went searching for the lost Sleazefest. I hope it turns up soon.