Skip to main content
Heirloom Roses - Tonic Lounge, Portland OR - August 21, 2018
[Portland OR] A strictly friends’ event – the debut of two
new bands. Everyone knew everyone, supporting the band with shouts “Sexy sons
of bitches!” I was going to say me and my five friends but I only had one
friend, and a semi-friend at that, in the audience… And there were actually
like twenty people in the audience because the first band benefitted from the
second band and their friends being in the audience. The band was just a
guitarist and drummer. The showman was all cis male energy (sorry, these terms
read snotty/classist to me but they’re a constant theme in my life). He stood
legs spread, no shirt, 90s wide-leg jeans. They were a mix of post-grunge, 90s
indie rock (Sebadoh), some staccato metal, quick moment of screamo. I didn’t
realize the first song had no lyrics until he sang on the second one. Some
songs had more melody and structure. It was interesting when they ended with
the drummer on trumpet. I enjoyed the lead singer’s metal-head tricks – he did
the circular thrash, the rapid left-to-right wobble you see in horror movies,
he did it all. The band is more intellectually nuanced than they’re ready to be
– once they drop the post-grunge posturing. Meanwhile, in the audience, a
lovely Latina approached the drummer for the next band and spent 30 seconds
trying to put something like a phone in his pocket. He stared steelily ahead
until she tapped his arm and he finally turned to help. In a timeless tale, that,
my friends, is how average-Joes attract and retain hotties – ignore and
humiliate them. (Photo courtesy of http://elevenpdx.com/live/know-your-venue/the-tonic-lounge)
[Portland OR] A strictly friends’ event – the debut of two
new bands. Everyone knew everyone, supporting the band with shouts “Sexy sons
of bitches!” I was going to say me and my five friends but I only had one
friend, and a semi-friend at that, in the audience… And there were actually
like twenty people in the audience because the first band benefitted from the
second band and their friends being in the audience. The band was just a
guitarist and drummer. The showman was all cis male energy (sorry, these terms
read snotty/classist to me but they’re a constant theme in my life). He stood
legs spread, no shirt, 90s wide-leg jeans. They were a mix of post-grunge, 90s
indie rock (Sebadoh), some staccato metal, quick moment of screamo. I didn’t
realize the first song had no lyrics until he sang on the second one. Some
songs had more melody and structure. It was interesting when they ended with
the drummer on trumpet. I enjoyed the lead singer’s metal-head tricks – he did
the circular thrash, the rapid left-to-right wobble you see in horror movies,
he did it all. The band is more intellectually nuanced than they’re ready to be
– once they drop the post-grunge posturing. Meanwhile, in the audience, a
lovely Latina approached the drummer for the next band and spent 30 seconds
trying to put something like a phone in his pocket. He stared steelily ahead
until she tapped his arm and he finally turned to help. In a timeless tale, that,
my friends, is how average-Joes attract and retain hotties – ignore and
humiliate them. (Photo courtesy of
Comments
Post a Comment