Sometimes it works. Sometimes you get to a show and you do not know a soul and you wait for what seems like an eternity for anything even remotely interesting to start (in an art gallery, no less). And you walk to the store to buy a beer and drink it in the alley because you get bored and you wonder whether you should even bother returning to the "show" that isn't a show at all but a gathering of people who aren't necessarily better or worse than you, aren't necessarily more or less cool than you...they are just different - as in not "your" people and while you aren't talking to any of them you also don't really feel the need to get to know them (nor they you). But you go back anyway because there's always the outside chance that the outfit you came to see will be as good as you hope, and tomorrow be damned you're going to find out. But first you have to sit through an opening act, and unfortunately for you the term "act" refers to a dude half your age wearing well tailored clothes and looking into the screen of a laptop computer. But sometimes it works. Sometimes that opening act is JOCK CLUB, and their construction of beats and sounds and moods is either brilliant in a general sense or just perfectly timed in fateful sense. The main act that night was everything I hoped and more, but this was a killer shocker. This is why you should damn tomorrow and stick it out just in case.
If you feel like getting lost for a few hours, I might suggest the folks at Ascetic House...
1 comment:
How many times have I had that same "beer in the alley." Thinking, I don't know a fucking soul in that place, why should I go back in there just to stand around being the only guy in dirty, steel-toed work boots and smelly t-shirt? More often than not, that beer has steeled my courage to re-enter and catch a dynamite show. God bless the alley-beers. Thanks for the post.
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