Went out to see the drummer of my highschool band's solo project . Played to a packed house of horny, horny women baring summer-celebratory cleavage and bemused dudes. I stood between a superfan who was a Neko Case lookalike who was elated when Sean gave her a rabid bit of mouth to mouth during the Karen-O parts of the single, and a naughty secretaries club who were mass jealous of the kiss. The desperate housewives asked the Neko for a report seconds after Sean's tongue left her mouth. The secretaries may actually be executives for all I know - I am going off their drunk divorcee vibe and their low heeled pumps. They were boobzillas all, they made a grind train between the six of them. They were all wearing black lacey tops with peekaboo bra straps and knew every word and pawed Sean's crotch whenever he would get near enough. Sean's new trick of lowering his pants and exposing his pubic hair, plucking out a fingerful and SPRINKLING HIS PUBES ON THE FRONT ROW made the all the womens go nuts unlike anything I have seen at a show. I nearly peed myself laughing.
Yet, The Critical Massive is still "what the F" on Har Mar, and baffled over his ability to win such a legion of lady fans "despite" being balding, hirsute and chubs, but what those people do not understand is easily explained by this: location is everything; when you grow up in Minneapolis, where Prince is the official state bird and everyone knows the words to "Pussy Control" by third grade, you grow up into that template. The old guard is exempt as it was too pop and too paralell, but on the newer school, the wet-panties-aesthetic is writ large.
I have more to post soon, but work-duty calls, but pictures of drunk kids with braces at GET WACKY III and the story of how I accidentally ended up in Beloit, WI at midnight on Saturday to follow when time allows.Posted by Jessica at April 5, 2005 12:30 AM | TrackBack