Mid-pandemic, I was subleasing the corner of a musty, beer can-infested jam space to practice drums. The unit behind mine was the frequent domain of an aging speed metal band, who never played in-time for more than half an hour and were routinely too drunk to finish a single practice. When the lead guitarist would take a break from arguing with his girlfriend on the balcony, he would pass me in the halls, begging for cocaine while playing Motörhead on his phone speakers. Power Chord is a lot like that band...
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