[Amsterdam]
I was there for the next band but this band was just so damned loveable. So
loveable I felt guilty – never trust something so easy - or go on and admit you’ve
got no taste. Despite all that, they outshone the headliners. Kind of synth
punk. Kind of industrial dance. Instead of drum n bass, it was drum n organ
(and drum n keyboard). Very The Faint or Adult. – maybe a little Gun Club - a
sound I’m generally a total sucker for. The side guy in the baseball cap went
from psych-y organ to dirty synth but it was the drummer/vocalist who mesmerized.
First, his voice – I went from thinking he sounded like Ian Curtis … to thinking
Billy Idol … and then Bono … Lemmy … Danzig. I stand by every single one of
them. One of the first songs was all
raunchy and sexy (and dumb) (“When I come home… watch your back girl… we’re
hitting the sack girl”) … but the guy’s all sweaty and shaggy and pouchy-eyed
…. and it Totally works – everyone, including the bearded guy to my left,
wanted to be his girl. A Chili Cold Blood or Legendary Shack Shakers vibe
(without pube-hair throwing). By the end of the set, he was giving the
microphone head – for reasons unclear to me. He did manage to make it
growl-scream but I’m not convinced he didn’t just need to lick something.
Fittingly, the seemingly-healthy guy next to me opened with: “I’ve switched to
boxed wine and I’m worried my convenience store lady will miss me showing up
for sixths of vodka” – at least some of us are still resisting a post-truth
world. And better than my Saturday at the coffee shop surrounded by contract
doulas, yoga teachers in training, and a girl weeping because the poor can’t
understand how good organic food is for them. My dating market is desperate
women and undateable men. Earlier, I was sitting next to a couple of guys and
one was saying, “Yeah she was mad at me on Sunday, and the day after that…
[chuckle] and the day after that.”
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