Like the curse of the Best New Artist Grammy ("Milli Vanilli's revenge," if you will), not all awards and recognition work out in the long run for the recipients. Take some of those featured in last year's best-of issue. Days after the paper hit the streets, the folks running the art/theater/punk stronghold the Tin Ceiling learned that its lease would not be renewed. Although those in charge kept plugging away until the end, going out with two fantastic weekends of shows in January, they were never able to locate a new space, and the group has since splintered. Worse yet, the glowing praise heaped on the giant scary clown statue that stood in a humble strip mall on Watson may have inspired vandals to destroy it. Even though it has since been replaced by two even creepier farmer guys, the moral is quite clear: Fame is not without its perils. Keep your wits about you, Bob Jamerson.
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