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Folk Punk Show Audience Can’t Be Bothered to Look Up From Their Soup Cans Connected by String

BAKERSFIELD, Calif. — The audience of a recent Terry and the Tire Irons show consisted of apathetic young folk punks who’s attention was glued to their soup cans connected by string, frustrated sources confirmed with a “dagnabbit.”

“These Gen-Z folk punks are always on their contraptions, it makes me sick. It’s not like the old days…well, I mean, the old-old-old days, since we’re talking about folk punks here,” complained head Tire Iron Terry Grebalski, as he ripped his name patch off his oil-stained coveralls in contempt. “They’ve gotta be in constant communication all the time, staring at their soup cans attached to string so they can talk to their friend on the other end. I’m trying to bang on a washtub up here, do you mind? I swear, they’re even worse than the tik-tok kids. That’s what we call our fans who are obsessed with those newfangled grandfather clocks.”

Amid the grumbling of the band, the bored audience members asserted that they were simply opting for what they were more interested in.

“Nothing against the Tire Irons, but we youngins need constant access to the outside world at all times, so until we can all stream their music from home–it doesn’t even have to be a stream, it could be a brook or a tributary, even–we’re going to be looking at our soup cans on string,” said Rosie Krassner, while intermittently checking the can for any transmission from whoever was on the other line. “We’ll have to wait for the latest Apple updates for those capabilities, though. But I hear it’s a Granny Smith this year, so I’m already licking my lips in anticipation for that! Yum!”

Ever-harried band manager Herndall Sigmund appeared at the end of his rope with the entire ordeal.

“This is bad publicity no matter how you slice it. On the one hand, taking the situation at face value, the band isn’t interesting to these young people. But, to make matters worse, even if Terry and the fellas were to make a Karen-like scene, there’s no way it could go viral because there are no cameras on anyone’s phones,” said Sigmund, as he arranged the haybales the band requests to be nearby at all times in a huff. “It’s lose-lose. Sometimes, I think this job sometimes ain’t worth the 10% I make from their pay. Especially because they’re always getting paid in, like, fresh buttermilk and shit like that. I fucking hate buttermilk.”

At press time, the show was cut short anyway when the entire audience ran out into the street to join an in-progress stickball game.