September 11, 2006

...THE DAY SHOO SHOO BEAR DIED

Touch N Go's official quincinera + 10--a review of partaking:

It is not the best thing to see bands on a dark thunderstorming day in a parking lot--even when Coco Rosie isn't playing. Being 5'4 insures you must be very very far away from whatever action is being actioned unless someone puts you on their shoulders, which is ok when yr seeing Toto at the State Fair, but not The Didjits. I was so far away for Scratch Acid I had to ask Matt if David Yow was fat or skinny now. I couldn't tell. Matt says he's "bout the same", fyi.

Negative Approach was more to my liking now as Brannon sings in his chainsaw voice of Laughing Hyenas era not hxc yelp of the baby years. Is Larisa Strickland alive? Why couldn't Laughing Hyenas of reformed? People would have cared. In the 55 minutes we stood in place in order to get a spot within 7 leagues of the Big Black mini set, Matt and I listened to a guy in his mid-late thirties tell a woman he was with about how his bass sound and style is copped more from Laughing Hyenas than Jesus Lizard, though it reflects both, like it was a topic sure to interest her. Her courtesy enthusiasm should of won her some awards, or at least a free weekend at a spa. We also heard about how many push-ups dude did in his hotel room. It was like Smog's "37 Push-Ups" except he's doing mixing in some Pilates.

I won't front--I was hoping Big Black would reduce everyone to rubble and dust. It didn't happen. There were certainly moments. Their desire to not engage nostalgia bled like pulling teeth rather than tasteful remove. I don't think most people cared though. They just lifted their camera phones and yelled "PLAY KEROSENE!" (they didn't.) Santiago was so out of tune it was like a foghorn signalling for sympathy, as if to say "See, guys, I haven't played in forever." I felt bad for him. And not just because he was wearing a braided leather belt and pleat front shorts.

But alas, they stayed stock still and jud-jud-judded along--granted, Jeff Pezzati on stage doesn't ever get all Gregory Hines in the first place. Sure, a little softshoe woulda been nice, but discernable enthusiasm woulda been even better. But I was just expecting something so much more ________. I think reading Yr Flesh at a too young age, with the wistful hyperbole about the back in the day days, with people going on about how seeing Big Black was like being skull fucked set the bar too high. I was expecting skullfucking; but when I left, I didn't even feel skull raped. Like, not even a tiny bit.

Albini played like Atomizer came out last Tuesday, natch, and that was the best part. My second favorite part of the Big Black show was right before they played Pezzati stood on stage in a white track suit top talking on his cell phone. While 5000 people watched. ("No. No. Other pants, honey. Not the tear away track pants. The creme ones. Yeah, velour. Yeah, bring those."). They closed with "Racer X", which was pretty rad.

Sally Timms was enchanting. Scratch Acid may have been enchanting -- all I can really tell you that David Yow is alive and still white. What else: It was cold and I would guess the average age of the concert goer was 35-45 years old and wearing their keys on the outside of their pants.

That, my friends, is the T&G scene report.

FIN.

Posted by Jessica at September 11, 2006 12:24 AM | TrackBack