Heat Dies Down
A few key things from the concert the other night:
1. The Walkmen only played for thirty minutes. This was a letdown. It was a cool set - they sounded great - but they didn't play many of my favorite songs - except for "The Rat" - which wasn't their fault, obviously, but it was still kind of a bummer, especially since I saw them last year on my birthday, and they played close to two hours.
2. My editor, Michelle, asked me prior to the show whether I would be bringing copies of Things Kept Burning to the band, since I quoted a passage from one of their songs inside the book. I have to say that the idea crossed my mind for a second, weeks ago, but I'm always uncomfortable being a fan, and didn't want to be one of those guys who shows up at a concert with a special gift for the band, looking like a cunt. I also didn't think I wold ever have a chance to. (Forgetting my uncanny luck to get backstage, as evidenced by the BJM and Stones tours last fall.) The irony, of course, is, right after they finished, I stepped outside to get some air, then decided to walk around the block - debating whether I should stick around for The Kaiser Chiefs - and boom, as soon as I turned the corner, all five members of The Walkmen were sitting there, on the sidewalk, having a smoke and watching their equipment, without a fan or a manager in sight. It was if they were just some local band trying to catch a break, instead of the cool indie band that they are. Then the lead singer took off to go move their van, a blue Tommy Bradford special, and for about two minutes, I was literally walking five feet behind him, and it was just the two of us on that specific block. Of course I was too self-conscious to ever introduce myself and come across like a groupie, so I just let it be and walked silently. But it felt like one of those lost opportunities, nonetheless, one that I could have done something about, if I were so inclined.
Let me also add that 6th and Market is a shady area, and as we turned the corner, we both were bombarded by unsavory characters, a few literally reaching out to grab my arm, where everything under the sun was offered (and subsequently declined, I'm proud to say). Then Hamilton got in his van and took off, and I looped back around to the front.
3. To my surprise, the Kaiser Chiefs stole the show. They seem like a cross between The Ramones and The Smiths, with a little Bloc Party mixed in, and not only did they sound awesome, but the lead singer possessed an energy and a charisma that made them a real spectacle to behold, especially when he would stand on one of the floor speakers at the front of the stage and lean over the pit defiantly, like a martyr ready for his punishment. The audience was obviously more hip to them than I was, for they knew every word to every song, and people were dancing in the aisles and having a great time, and I can't tell you how much fun it all was, to be turned on to something new, to have my night transformed from disappointment to debauchery, and to be a part of something that felt real, if only for a few hours.
Needless to say I went out the next morning and bought their new CD, which I've been listening to non-stop since. (Well, that and Blonde Redhead's new album, which is gorgeously packaged with a red bow across an aqua blue front, with a multi-legged woman - a brunette no less - playing tennis.)
1. The Walkmen only played for thirty minutes. This was a letdown. It was a cool set - they sounded great - but they didn't play many of my favorite songs - except for "The Rat" - which wasn't their fault, obviously, but it was still kind of a bummer, especially since I saw them last year on my birthday, and they played close to two hours.
2. My editor, Michelle, asked me prior to the show whether I would be bringing copies of Things Kept Burning to the band, since I quoted a passage from one of their songs inside the book. I have to say that the idea crossed my mind for a second, weeks ago, but I'm always uncomfortable being a fan, and didn't want to be one of those guys who shows up at a concert with a special gift for the band, looking like a cunt. I also didn't think I wold ever have a chance to. (Forgetting my uncanny luck to get backstage, as evidenced by the BJM and Stones tours last fall.) The irony, of course, is, right after they finished, I stepped outside to get some air, then decided to walk around the block - debating whether I should stick around for The Kaiser Chiefs - and boom, as soon as I turned the corner, all five members of The Walkmen were sitting there, on the sidewalk, having a smoke and watching their equipment, without a fan or a manager in sight. It was if they were just some local band trying to catch a break, instead of the cool indie band that they are. Then the lead singer took off to go move their van, a blue Tommy Bradford special, and for about two minutes, I was literally walking five feet behind him, and it was just the two of us on that specific block. Of course I was too self-conscious to ever introduce myself and come across like a groupie, so I just let it be and walked silently. But it felt like one of those lost opportunities, nonetheless, one that I could have done something about, if I were so inclined.
Let me also add that 6th and Market is a shady area, and as we turned the corner, we both were bombarded by unsavory characters, a few literally reaching out to grab my arm, where everything under the sun was offered (and subsequently declined, I'm proud to say). Then Hamilton got in his van and took off, and I looped back around to the front.
3. To my surprise, the Kaiser Chiefs stole the show. They seem like a cross between The Ramones and The Smiths, with a little Bloc Party mixed in, and not only did they sound awesome, but the lead singer possessed an energy and a charisma that made them a real spectacle to behold, especially when he would stand on one of the floor speakers at the front of the stage and lean over the pit defiantly, like a martyr ready for his punishment. The audience was obviously more hip to them than I was, for they knew every word to every song, and people were dancing in the aisles and having a great time, and I can't tell you how much fun it all was, to be turned on to something new, to have my night transformed from disappointment to debauchery, and to be a part of something that felt real, if only for a few hours.
Needless to say I went out the next morning and bought their new CD, which I've been listening to non-stop since. (Well, that and Blonde Redhead's new album, which is gorgeously packaged with a red bow across an aqua blue front, with a multi-legged woman - a brunette no less - playing tennis.)
posted by Rob Simons at 12:47 PM
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