[Portland] In theory, this venue is good … but I never see
shows here – I don’t know why. It’s in what’s probably my favorite part of
Portland, the site of the first of my three ‘homes’ in my first 1.5 years in Portland.
The area was relatively cheap and, so
I found out, Portland’s main hotbed of gentrification. One of my grad students,
black and in his 30s, grew up in the neighborhood and jokes that the white
people think it’s all okay as long as they stick their Black Lives Matter sign
firmly out front. I thought on all this while pondering why the venue, a
decidedly white-centric place, decided to hang a giant painting of a blackish
man in an ancient sort of head-armor just to the left of the stage. Entering
the venue ended up being awkward. One of my undergraduates was running security
at the front door. And not just any undergraduate but one who’s taken 2 or even
more classes from me. As he (perfunctorily) checked my purse, he friendlily
called me ‘professor’ – which I hate in pretty much any setting. He’s also the
student I nominated for our department’s top-undergraduate-of-the-year (or
something like that) award. When I said his name in our faculty meeting to
determine who would win this prized award, my colleague/coworker used his Bill
Lumbergh (Office Space) voice to explain to me that this student can be a
little wandering and disjointed. I agreed and explained that it just seemed to
work in sociological theory classes. He’d typically show up late, disheveled,
with the demeanor of a hopeful puppy… but, during discussions—which were
central in these classes—he’d unload a bunch of thoughts that’d leave his classmates
(and me) … thoughtful. Maybe as disjointed as some of the classical
sociological theorists, maybe just high levels of enthusiasm - either way, I
liked it. Another colleague started advocating for their undergraduate: “she’s
motivated” “she’s applying for grad school” … “she’s found the cure for cancer”
… I tilted my head and added that mine works in security…. the contrast was
getting sort of delicious. So my undergrad didn’t win. But case-in-point for how
I evaluate people. The crowd was good – introverted individualists? Although, the
girls were sort of posh. There were also a whole lot of lovers in the crowd,
full-on passionate kiss shesshions. Maybe it was in the air because I had some
weird vibe going on. I spent my first ten minutes upstairs in the theatre
seating, responding to very important text messages and the like. A woman in
mainstream-cute-funky-Portland clothes was down the way-I noted briefly. I went
downstairs to stand by the bar and properly people watch – she walked by five
times, made uncomfortable eye contact once, and stood next to me with real
intention for three minutes. And then the freaks & geeks guy standing at
the wall opposite to me was pretending to look forward while all the while
giving side-eye to see if I was looking at him. This all may have been my fault
for my forgetfully-intense people-watching eye. But then my undergrad was
unfortunately not only managing security at the door but also doing wandering
security and so would pop up and wave at me unexpectedly - I’m used to being
anonymous at these things, but I like him a lot, so I’d make up for it with overenthusiasm.
The band’s first song made me think Godspeed You... ... ... This was entirely inaccurate.
They are boring discordant noodly noise. Except they’re not all that noodly,
i.e., not all that complicated. They were like people who never learned the
words “groove” “hook” “pop” in grade school. The maraca nearly broke the
delicate wrist of the soft-hearted girl who was only bobbing her head slightly
so as to protect it. I literally saw two (separate) people getting some shuteye
during their set. I was reminded of this super infuriating – like I remain
infuriated fifteen years later – concert by Yo La Tengo in Austin. They were so
aloof-cool-understated and I just wanted to smack them from the audience. I
started getting really worried about what I’d gotten myself into … and then a
guy in a Skinny Puppy t-shirt walked by. Praise be. Their recorded material suggests they’re
not as awful as I make out—shoegaze, if not the shoegaze I like (so Bloody
Valentine rather than Stones Roses)—and they even make sense in a weird way for
the next two bands.
Comments
Post a Comment