There are spuds among us, Part II
When we got in, we waited some more, then put away our umbrellas and got thoroughly soaked. Finally, the opening band, Stellastar came on. They were… well, they were pretty. It was obvious that no one came for them, as the crowd was stoic during their performance, finding more enjoyment in a trash bag filled with air. I’ll admit they had some talent, but their songs were irritating, with too much "wa-ah", and they took themselves too seriously. Reading the crowd, I knew that the only way they could redeem themselves was if the hot bass player took off her top. She didn’t, and eventually they were gone.
With the Yeah Yeah Yeahs up next, the crowd closed in more. After a while, they came on, and damn, I have to say I’m a fan. Very fun music, very cool band members. The drummer and guitarist played a few chords from a DEVO song, Slap Your Mammy, I believe. And damn, that singer is an amazing woman, though I can’t say I particularly liked her choice of clothes: A multi-colored bathing suit thing, weird tied-on pieces of cloth, beige-ish fishnets, and a transparent poncho that she later ripped off. I think I’m in love. Though she’s not incredibly hot, her overwhelmingly fun personality and stage presence boost her to astronomical levels. Steam came off the drummer. I also felt sorry for the stagehand who had to run around after the singer, unhooking the mic cord from whatever she got it wrapped around.
When the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were done, the crowd really packed in. Then DEVO finally came on in their classic yellow jumpsuits and my first impression was: yep, they’re old. But soon enough, this was replaced by: but they still rock. They played their biggest hits, and the crowd loved it. Even the quiet kid who looked like Elijah Wood was enjoying himself. The rain had stopped for both the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and DEVO, and the minute they left the stage, it started up again. Brett’s umbrella was lost, so I lent him mine for the walk to Grand Central, to prevent his glasses from fogging up. I certainly wasn’t getting any wetter. This was apocalyptic weather, and I slogged through 6-inch puddles on street corners. On the train ride home, the conductor disdainfully took my soggy ticket.
A few other things:
The concert was filmed, and they should be showing it on ABC sometime.
At least I’m less of a country rube than Brett, as evidenced by his troubles going through the turny-thing at the subway. Or maybe, of the two of us, he’s just slightly more bumbling.
Also, I give money to homeless people to buy booze. If they don’t spend it on booze, I suppose that’s okay too. Someday I may need strangers to give me money to support my lazy self in my intoxicating endeavors, so I ought to set a good example while I can.
If you've bothered to read all of this entry, both parts, then you are a good person. If not, I don't know if there's salvation for you.
With the Yeah Yeah Yeahs up next, the crowd closed in more. After a while, they came on, and damn, I have to say I’m a fan. Very fun music, very cool band members. The drummer and guitarist played a few chords from a DEVO song, Slap Your Mammy, I believe. And damn, that singer is an amazing woman, though I can’t say I particularly liked her choice of clothes: A multi-colored bathing suit thing, weird tied-on pieces of cloth, beige-ish fishnets, and a transparent poncho that she later ripped off. I think I’m in love. Though she’s not incredibly hot, her overwhelmingly fun personality and stage presence boost her to astronomical levels. Steam came off the drummer. I also felt sorry for the stagehand who had to run around after the singer, unhooking the mic cord from whatever she got it wrapped around.
When the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were done, the crowd really packed in. Then DEVO finally came on in their classic yellow jumpsuits and my first impression was: yep, they’re old. But soon enough, this was replaced by: but they still rock. They played their biggest hits, and the crowd loved it. Even the quiet kid who looked like Elijah Wood was enjoying himself. The rain had stopped for both the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and DEVO, and the minute they left the stage, it started up again. Brett’s umbrella was lost, so I lent him mine for the walk to Grand Central, to prevent his glasses from fogging up. I certainly wasn’t getting any wetter. This was apocalyptic weather, and I slogged through 6-inch puddles on street corners. On the train ride home, the conductor disdainfully took my soggy ticket.
A few other things:
The concert was filmed, and they should be showing it on ABC sometime.
At least I’m less of a country rube than Brett, as evidenced by his troubles going through the turny-thing at the subway. Or maybe, of the two of us, he’s just slightly more bumbling.
Also, I give money to homeless people to buy booze. If they don’t spend it on booze, I suppose that’s okay too. Someday I may need strangers to give me money to support my lazy self in my intoxicating endeavors, so I ought to set a good example while I can.
If you've bothered to read all of this entry, both parts, then you are a good person. If not, I don't know if there's salvation for you.