common people like me

Is concert burnout even possible? I'm out to test that theory, as tonight I make my way to the Of Montreal show, which will make 4 shows in 9 days. By Tuesday we're looking at a 5/11 ratio. But it has been worth every screwed up night of (no) sleep.

Friday's Stars show was amazing. Montag, some Montreal man made of pure cheese stole mine and Becky's hearts with his awkwardly delicious dairy, despite the fact that he had a song called "Scrabble Heart" in which he sings: "We'll double the word score.......we'll triple the word score...." in an awful French accent.

And of course, The Wooden Stars were adored by all, regardless of(or perhaps due to) their washed up, settled down ex-punk rocker appearance. We're talkin' wool sweaters, old white tennis shoes and receding hairlines. It was a little endearing, really. And the lead sing has this amazing voice, so full of urgency, guts and teeth.

The Organ, on the other hand was a bit disappointing. They didn't seem to like being in Montreal. Or being on stage. Or playing instruments. The only thing that was keeping them going was the fact that they were robot zombies, being controlled with funny little joysticks by the members of the Stars backstage. That has to be it. We were very happy to see the Stars. And they were fantastic.

The Brunettes opened for the Shins. I liked them. They were a big 7 piece band from New Zealand, and their lead singer's name is pronounced Hitha, because in crazy backwards New Zealand world, they pronounce ea as i, and er as a.


Blah ditty blah blah.... Lets get to the jumpy jumpy fun fun fun.....


FRIDAY NIGHT: The Futureheads show! We got there late apparently, thanks to tons of high school kids and their lack of any sense of fashionably-lateness. Thank god I knew they were there for Hot Hot Heat, and I could completely disassociate myself from them, and you know, mock them and stuff. But the scoundrels were packing the joint up so tight that we were unable to squeeze our way to the front. We weren't really that far back at all, just enough so that lead singer Barry couldn't spot us dancing. I tried to wave at him a few times, all friendly-like, as if we were great pals. He didn't see me. I think Ross the guitarist might have, but we didn't speak to him when they were here last time, so he had no idea that we were Barry's Montreal Girls. I told Ingela to yell out "Ingela Travers plus one!" but it didn't really fly. Nor did any of my other conniving schemes to get backstage, or somehow signal to Barry to go to Korova's instead of crappy Pistol.

We almost left when Hot Hot Heat came on, but thank god we endured them for about 40 minutes, because they ended up saving our butts. Mr. Stupid hair announced that the after-party was at the Green Room. We made our way there shortly after. We got there at about 11:30, and waited such a long time. Just when we were beginning to feel particularly dejected and disappointed, Barry and Bassist Jaff walked in, and we ended up having a wild night of dancing with Barry. He was pretty wasted by the end of the night, and that totally worked in our favour. He was completely ours. It was unbelievable. The second best part of the night was when he moved my hand onto his ass, and I'm just thinking "holy FUCK, I am groping Barry Futureheads butt!" while trying to remain perfectly cool and not step on his feet. What was the first best part of the night, you ask? Good question.....



I really think he would have stayed with us until 6 am, had his tour manager not dragged him away from us. I gave him my favorite pin, the pink Robot one, in honour of their song of the same name. It better be put to use. I love that pin.

Even still, I would trade robot pin for that night again in a heartbeat.

Oh, Barry. You really can't dance very well to hip hop. But we still love you.

But he dances so well when he's holding a guitar...

rap your way home

It's been a fun couple of weeks, studying and working my tuckus (is that how you spell it? I'm so not Jewish) off. I am awash in conventional metaphors, free morphemes, De Saussure, and idiolects, among other things. And my brain is pretty much throbbing at this point. Which is why I was pleasantly surprised to find a little song hiding in my head as I commuted my way home from a study session at Con U. Here he is:

she read the news about shakespeare today
she opens her mouth but has nothing to say
the world is not as it appears
she drinks some more to quell her fears
she acts the part of juliet
in her bedroom for her tabby cat

he stabs the dragon in the toe
and for a while it's touch and go
he prevails though in the end
so his ego's well defended
she licks its blood from off his hand
they fuck right there in dragonland

don't you wanna be regaled
with a fractured fairy tale
don't you wanna close your eyes
we control our own demise

we flew paper airplanes in parc jean-drapeau
I'm having trouble letting go
yours flies steadier than mine
I guess I've always been behind
the things that move the things that grow
I'm having trouble letting go

now I just need a tune!

***

other things that made me happy today:

-a yummy spinach and cheese pastry from Altaib for 1.75
-2 Marlboro lites from korea
-being able to explain Romanticism and how it relates to Nationalism, tying it all in a pretty bow with Wagner (I wowed 'em, let me tell you)
-a creepy homeless guy complimenting my blue shoes
-a guy rapping (quite eloquently) for spare change to take the bus home to Candiac- which I believe he rhymed with heart attack.
-a ticket to Of Montreal
-a ticket to the Stars/the Organ
-a ticket to Pony Up!/the Lovely feathers
- the guy at esoteric recognizing me (I've only been to this record store 5 times in the past two weeks)
-my bangs

on the 23rd and 25th I'll just sleep and eat...

April 22nd: The Futureheads (some lame band called "Hot Hot Heat" is closing for them. Whatever.)

April 24th: Of Montreal

April 26th: The Lovely Feathers and Pony Up!

And my very last exam is on the 22nd. What a beautiful way to say "So long, suckaas!"

little feather.

Irreverent Kittens

Why does everything I want so badly not exist?

We won't even go into guys here. That's a bit too obvious. What I'm talking about is much more vapid and shallow.

There is a poster. A brilliant poster from the late '80's to early '90's that I must have, but I cannot find it anywhere. It's of actual kittens, dressed in little Rat-pack suits, smoking in a public bathroom.

Stop and think now. Can you see it? Yeah, I know! Isn't it great?

It's a classic, I'm sure of it, and yet somehow, it has ceased to exist. Is it possible that this pop-culture fabrication is fading from our collective unconscious? And I, and perhaps a few others like me, are the few sad folks who will remember this tasteless, yet charmingly irreverent piece of Americana and when we die, it shall be wiped from the world's memory forever. What a sad sad day that will be.


P.S. It looks way better than this, the one I'm thinking of. There also should be a kitten Brando. Can't find that either.

The Brilliant Barnes Brothers

I was on the Of Montreal site the other day, and stumbled across a link to their artist, David Barnes' website. He does great album covers, and on his site you can see a bunch of other weird stuff he's done. The site is really cool and imaginative. I felt as if I was stepping into this guys brain or something. Hmm... uncomfortable, yet irresistibly voyeuristic.

The most interesting, and funniest section is A Closer Look, where he has taken a few complex pieces, and de-constructed them, like a director's commentary on a DVD, or... pop-up video? Reading his odd comments, I got the impression that he's this smarter-than-my-limited-grade -8-vocabulary-allows-me-to-sound kind of guy- in a very funny, sweet and fascinating way.

Oh, and he's Of Montreal Kevin Barnes' brother.

And he'll do your portrait for 150 smackers!

web-arific blog-aganza!

Okay. I haven't posted in over a week, and not for lack of content material. So to make up for this I will be multi-posting tonight. So get ready for binge blogging, aurora style. . .

. . . right after I watch Lost.*

. . . and do some laundry.

. . . and pee.


*addendum: fuck. that was such a good episode. Locke is probably the most interesting charachter on tv this year. And Sawyer is the hottest- even wearing dorky frankenstein glasses.