When the guy in Fuck announced his 37th birthday, people thought he was joking. The occasion was too cruddy: the rumpus-room attic of a gross bar near the airport, a crowd of less than two dozen. But so what, they played, had a good time. Only the show's kid organizer was disappointed. From a band called Fuck he'd been expecting something badder. At night's end he ripped up a sign with the band's name, stomped the remains, and shouted, "that wasn't... More >>>