The best part about being in the palindromic indie schlock band, Racecar, was the location of the practice space: inside the XL warehouse in Glendale. Just a few feet away from our hot amps and ironic songcraft stood a labyrinth of dyed and stitched cotton, silkscreened with bleeding-edge pop culture logo-knockoffs usually mutated to invoke the image of a gorilla (XL's mascot animal). So, one night at band prac, after strumming a few ham-handed power chords in small room with Eli, Andy Jenkins, and Spike for an hour or two…I stumbled out and wiped my face on this makeshift towel: an XL Rollerball shirt, like the one James Caan wore in the 70s-era sci-fi classic. I was prone to dressing in anything free, bold, and saucy, and this shirt was hot orange and covered in my sweat. Bingo> I flew into it like a moth toward a flame.