VIII. RALPH EATS DYNAMITE are engaged to Red Quiet. We first encountered these wackos at the ever-glamorous All Asia sometime in the faint beginnings of summer in 2008, which was possibly the most fortuitous weekend for us in Red Quiet history. We played a set at 6:00 on a Thursday afternoon—I can’t remember why—and the Dynamites followed. There was nobody there, but we had fun anyway. The following night they invited us to 119 Gallery to play a show, and there we were, meeting everyone from Lowell, a city that now feels as comfortable to us as our own.

The Lowell kids make me nostalgic for my college days. Most of them orbit the UMass Lowell campus, which is the home of WUML, specifically the “Live from the Fallout Shelter” program which has operated nigh 25 years, which probably is what makes Lowell a destination on the map of independent rock and roll. Play a gig in Lowell, and you’ll inevitably wind up eating vegan cupcakes. They have rock and roll shows in garages over brunch on Sundays. They are fiercely loyal to their bands—on any given Thursday half the audience at the Tavern is from Lowell, about thirty to forty minutes away.

The Dynamites are both lock and key to this scene. They probably know every band in this city, and rightfully so. They simply cannot be ignored. A Ralph Eats Dynamite show is as crazy as the name; they’re explosive and insane. Frantic, even. I’m serious: every time Olivia gets drunk we get decked with shoes. Or there’s the timeI drank a 40oz of malt liquor while cooking corn in Chelmsford, just before  drawing a gigantic red tomato on a wall with finger-paint. And beyond that there’s the Amahlahmah [sic], two freaks spinning around screaming ‘I’M A FUCKIN LLAMA.’

I have nothing more to say.