Thursday, July 10, 2003
Physical State: achey
Mental State: cardboardy
Music: Slumber Party - Psychedelicate
Fashion sense: blue shirt, grey sweats
The wonderful Miss Pam (of CKLN's Wired For Sound show) is djing along with her Lipstick, Cherry team this Friday, July 11 at the Silver Dollar. Five bux gets you a chance to catch them spin some great dance tunes. The Silver Dollar is getting pretty unique with its bookings lately. Interesting.
***
After seeing the Gossip the other night a certain Splendid Ezine column immediately came to mind that I always get a laugh out of reading, "The 17 Most Hated Aspects of the Concert-Going Experience". Click here to read it.
I've also decided that I could add some of my own and I invite you to as well. So here are my few chosen gems from the Toronto concert-going experience. God love you all:
You'll dance to anything
The couple who want to just dance like crazy when no one else is dancing around them making them seem like bizarre Twilight-zone people amongest the "lamo" hipsters. You have to admire their spirit while thinking that they look like goofs at the same time.
Do The "Toronto"
Everybody's doing it. You cross your arms, you look bored and tilt your head back and forth to the music every so slightly before handing out the golf clap at the end of the song...the dance craze that's sweeping the rock kids today, wicked! Idea stolen from a great issue of Rosco magazine that put it more succinctly.
The "I Gotta Be Somewhere Else Right Now" Girl
You always see her at the show. The chick whose always in a hurry and moving quickly through a crowd like she's leaving the place in a fire or something, "no time to talk man I have to be over there...RIGHT NOW!" Of course she spends half the night quickly roaming the venue pissing people off. Sit the f**k down and listen to the music, lady.
This concert brought to you by Laramie
Smokers. In Toronto they always seem to be adding zero to the concert experience. They make your hair and clothes smell bad while getting all chatty as they blow out plumes of blue death above their head. Ottawa is the only sane city in this country relegating smoking to outside the venue and banning it in all bars. I should be able to go see a band and only have my hearing impaired, get me? You don't look like Jean-Paul Belmondo and you're pissing me off. Disgruntled ex-smokers are the worst, huh? True dat.
The heckler who hates laptoppers
This happens all the time. Some "dude" gets a free ticket from some record exec friend and doesn't know a damn thing about the band or electronic music. He then proceeds to berate the laptop artist for "doing nothing but looking at their computer". I remember such an incident at the Styrofoam/Lali Puna show where some aged wisenheimer thought he'd speak up for the ignorant masses who don't go to electronic shows by telling Mr. Styrofoam that he "wasn't doing anything, asshole". Arne Van Petegem looked like he was going to kick the guy's ass when he stopped the show mid-way. This guy was quickly expelled from the club by security while screaming "rip off, rip off...you suck, man...come on do something". Leave your hate at home, son. Don't take your hate to town, Bill.
The scream team
They talk all through the breaks in the sets and when the band comes on and plays loudly they have to shout to talk to each other over the "din" of what they bought a ticket for in the first place. Hit the Starbucks across the street if you feel like having a chat/yell, losers. I didn't pay my $10 to hear Beth Ditto cranking it out in one ear and about your newest purchase at the Gap in the other.
Jocks on Parade
They blew off some frat party so they could come and "rock the house" and walk like they have a groin injury. They don't know who this band is or care but rather than go to the Brunswick House and get blotto there they figure they'll hit a live show and pick up some hot indie girls or something. Of course they talk and laugh through the whole show saying how much they hate this kind of "art phag music" while downing ever present shots of Jagermeister. Your neck is getting too wide and take off your hat in the presence of lady there, chief.
Liquored Up and Lacquered Down
Interpolish, urban-hipster longing for the next Fischerspooner show so he can show off his new hairstyling trick of molding his hair to look like something from an Art Deco sculpture all the while sporting that eyeliner a la Alex from Clockwork Orange. We used to call them New Romantics back in the day but they seem so out of place unless you're at an Electroclash night. I have to give these guys props though at least they're damn comfortable with themselves and that's something to admire. Better to worship Gary Numan than The Eagles too, I suppose.
No Sleep 'til Unionville
They don't like the Toronto indie scene and they don't know anything about it. They know Pottery Barn, golf courses and shelf paper. They couldn't get into the Celine Dion concert so Lee's must be the next best place (according to the Fodors guide or something). They don't get their freak on like this in suburbia so it's important to see how the other half lives. Of course they also talk during the entire show (or leave early before the good headliners come on). Tennis anyone?
The "I hate everything" guy
He has every release by anyone and he hates them all. He comes to the show to carry on about how Chik Chik Chik are just another variation of Gang of Four and they suck (they don't). He wanted to be a newspaper music critic but he can't spell so he just fills your ear with what he hates about the band playing tonight and how they're so derivative. Sometimes he may also have that long running column in a local indie newspaper making you feel bad later for thinking the show was top-notch when he thought it was crap. That sh*t don't impress me at all.
Johnny Come Lately
It never fails. You're seeing some uber-quiet band like Cat Power, Low or some local introspective indie band and some guy missed his connecting flight (or at least waited too long for the streetcar after "the meeting"). So he shows up late and rushes in to buy a ticket at the door bellowing and huffing to the doorman at the quietest part of the show. Extra points if your cellphone goes off at the same point. Lifetime asshole award if you actually answer it and start talking. Make sure you're connected boy, right? Your boss called, you're fired. At least now you'll be unemployed and gaining tons of indie-cred. See a happy ending.
Value Village Public Image
They have a hat collection of those crummy polyester and cotton baseball hats that have things like "Brantford Trucking Co." or "Garrison's Home Hardware" either silkscreened or heatpressed on it in Cooper Black letters. They wear shirts with bandnames like Foghat. Their baseball cap hasn't seen a washing machine in 20 years. They of course will be bald soon so they'll keep on wearing these hats to cover this fact up. Look for the variation on this in the form of the "urban-hoser" with a similarly emblazoned toque/Remy Shand crochet hat. The "I have a hat on when its 30 degrees outside" guy. Dude, grunge is over and you're not Badly Drawn Boy. Okay maybe this comes from a jealousy out of looking like a true dork whenever I wear a hat, fair enough. They usually end up standing in front of me at the show with their big hat on too. Girls on the other hand can pull off this look and get my respect, hoser-country shitkickers named Paula make me drool every time.
But then who the hell am I?
