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Anyway, about five years later, a chance visit got me over to my pal Howie's house and he pointed out his tatty, stained and worn copy of the same flier. It was up for grabs. I wasn't exactly happy with its hammered condition, but given that Howie had peeled it directly off the walls of CBGBs himself, and that I hadn't seen another copy, I figured this would be my only chance.
Unable to console myself with this placeholder, I tracked down the photographer responsible for the cover shot. Zilch. Nil. Nada. Ten years later, I'd just about given up all hope. Skirting dangerously close to admitting defeat, I decided to follow up one last, unlikely lead. Sure enough, in under two weeks, I had a pristine copy of the flier fall into my lap ...and all it took were some kind words, a few color copies and my eternal gratitude. Unbelievable.
You can view a side by side comparison here.
1 comment:
Hi nice reading yyour blog
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