Regression
Amy was my partner in crime last night. The goal was to satisfy my morbid curiosity about the Chef Dude's band. What does a music snob's music sound like? Okay, that wasn't the only goal. Life is very shallow.
We got blazin' on a balcony in Columbia Heights and schlepped to the Black Cat, immediately downing beers. We'd already been drinking. Then we ran back and forth to the backstage door, peering through the window to see if Chef Dude's band was on, unable to decide if we should go in. Fine, I was the indecisive one. After doing this four times (no doubt the Chef Dude probably glanced at the window and saw my idiot more-Chinese-than-ever face plastered to the window when he was at the mike), we finally decided to go in, much to the annoyance of the fat chick at the door.
A combination of nerves, discomfort, being drunk, and blazin' (thus a little paranoid) not to mention I DIDN'T LIKE THE BAND meant I could only take two songs before I wigged out and had to exit. They weren't bad...just not my style. Wilco-esque (I hate Wilco, I know, *gasp*!) but Mike (the singer) sounds whinier and twangier. Take the Neutral Milk Hotel dude and make him yeehaw. No wonder I wigged out. I expected something more intellectual from someone so critical and snooty.
This isn't a surprise though - he never let me hear his band because he said they had a Wilco sound and he knew I hated them.
Amy and I later hiked to the Brickskellar and inhaled obscure beers, a bucket of mussels, and a basket of fries before trudging back home at 2AM. I am very tired today and feeling pretty stupid yet amused at my immaturity last night. Andre says I should have yelled, "PLAY WILCO!!!"
We got blazin' on a balcony in Columbia Heights and schlepped to the Black Cat, immediately downing beers. We'd already been drinking. Then we ran back and forth to the backstage door, peering through the window to see if Chef Dude's band was on, unable to decide if we should go in. Fine, I was the indecisive one. After doing this four times (no doubt the Chef Dude probably glanced at the window and saw my idiot more-Chinese-than-ever face plastered to the window when he was at the mike), we finally decided to go in, much to the annoyance of the fat chick at the door.
A combination of nerves, discomfort, being drunk, and blazin' (thus a little paranoid) not to mention I DIDN'T LIKE THE BAND meant I could only take two songs before I wigged out and had to exit. They weren't bad...just not my style. Wilco-esque (I hate Wilco, I know, *gasp*!) but Mike (the singer) sounds whinier and twangier. Take the Neutral Milk Hotel dude and make him yeehaw. No wonder I wigged out. I expected something more intellectual from someone so critical and snooty.
This isn't a surprise though - he never let me hear his band because he said they had a Wilco sound and he knew I hated them.
Amy and I later hiked to the Brickskellar and inhaled obscure beers, a bucket of mussels, and a basket of fries before trudging back home at 2AM. I am very tired today and feeling pretty stupid yet amused at my immaturity last night. Andre says I should have yelled, "PLAY WILCO!!!"
posted by FunctionalDisaster at 11:57 AM
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