Unlike many of my contemporaries, I still enjoy going to loud and energetically-obnoxious rock concerts. I am smart enough to know to bring earplugs, kleenex in case the rock toilet has no paper, to wear comfortable shoes suitable for standing and bouncing for several hours, and dumb enough to still expect people not to be total assholes. I do like the option of having an assigned seat, but then I am in for a whole 'nother level of frustration, AKA Ticketbastard and the fact that it's often impossible to snare a good seat anymore. When you have artists that actually will pull their own tickets pre-sale and give them to a premium reseller like Stubhub, wtf can someone like me do? I would like to see the government toss these artists to a German polar bear.
Anyway, tonight it was my wish to go and see the group My Bloody Valentine. They are part of the original "shoegazer" groups from the late '80s/early '90s, and their music is mainly known for a heavy, swirling, guitar-based sonic assault, hypnotic and powerful. I never had a chance to see them earlier, so I was all ready to go out and give it a go. But I reluctantly decided to stay home and make angel hair pasta with marinara sauce, Italian sausage, salad, and apples instead, while semi-pouting. Sometimes making a reasonable decision stinks.
Here's what went into my decision process:
Pros: cool, who knows when they'd be back, fun, possibility to grab a bleacher seat in the back if the front was too smashy, unique to anything I have seen, chance to see a very influential band
Cons: have to go alone, suck venue with terrible sound, suck venue also in bad neighborhood where waiting for a ride or walking somewhere else is not without risk, suck venue is the same one where I got into a fight last fall, band actually plays so loud that people have been known to faint or vomit
Here was the decider:
Me: Do you want to go with me to see My Bloody Valentine tonight?
CouchTeen: Are you kidding me?
Me: No, I like them!
CouchTeen: Oh, you don't want to go to that.
Me: Why?
CouchTeen: Because the whole audience will be drugged-out 15-year-old emo girls.
Me: Ha ha ha!
CouchTeen: Really.
So, I consoled myself by obtaining their entire recorded catalogue instead. There's just no way I want some eyeliner-girl throwing up on me while I attempt to avoid either fighting with men half my age or getting hit on by them in the spooky streets while I try to find a bathroom with toilet paper because I forgot to bring kleenex after all. I left that level of stupid behind in about 1985.
On the way to pick up the kids from school, a white Yukon pulled out in front of me, instead of me pulling out in front of a black Yukon. Heh.
At least this post was not a continuation of my unfortunate urethra story.
Here's exactly what I missed!
My Bloody Valentine -- "You Made Me Realize"
© Copyright 2008- Marianne Spellman