SO.... how was the show?
i mentioned to the bassist of bt, how much i love your (el jefe) posters, while him and the drummer were at the table selling merch, to which he just looked at me and said, "huh? . . . yeah . . . he's not here. " sort of thought he was kind of strange, and when they took the stage, it was him that stood out the most. everybody in the band evokes a commune of oregon youth with messed up hair, that drink only herbal tea and organic lagers, shop at the local goodwill and make it all seem cool. but the bassist looked as if he didn't want to be there the entire set, and evoked an image of somehow he ended up in the wrong band on the nickelback tour with a corona in his hand. bt is good. ok, they are excellent; their music is a haunting new expression at the art of making sound from machines and voices from throats into microphones. the writing is sheer brilliant. damn that bassist for distracting me. and also is it just me, or are there way too many members?
the crowd was so strange. too many young people who appeared as if they have never been to a show before, and those annoying fucks who don't understand what not talking the entire show is about. stay the fuck home and talk all you want. plus the beards. i have a beard, and it was nice to be in the presense of so many beards. go beards. somehow, i feel the black cat draws a type of people who are always attempting to be and look indie cool. which is fine if that is who you are. goth people are the same way. they all are just so interesting. go interesting people. i'm pretty sure i was the only one in a phish shirt last night, and believe me i caught many the "dirty" looks.
now i save the last paragraph for the opening band, alela diane. wow. jesus in the sky, i just said wow. they wrapped me in their web of beauty, lyrics, basic stripped down acoustic folk bliss, leaving me staring in bopping head disbelief. the clothes they wore, the drummer. the ethereal girl in the dime store dress with oyster shell(?) necklace, stage left . . . i am in love with you. that bass. the drummer. the father/daughter team, and when he brought out the mandolin, it was over. her songs had meaning and substance, such as the ode to her mother. toward the end of the night, as they sat at the mech table singing along to bt and were obviously getting tired, i just had to go on up, buy their cd and tell them "that it's bands such as them that i'm glad i come to shows early."
i will be buying a poster, el jefe. will they be signed as they were at the show? if not, i am still buying one. one hell of a show at the black cat, black cat . . . spare change for the homeless looking kids on the stage.