Sunday, July 15, 2007
"She was screaming as she fell, but I never heard her hit."

This l
ast weekend I saw folk-punk (or insert your own favorite descriptive musical sub-genre here) veterans Violent Femmes at the downtown Louisville entertainment complex Fourth Street LIVE! Really, I have to write it like that - Fourth Street LIVE! - or the local Chamber of Commerce will kidnap me, erase my memory, and make me live in a godforsaken Kentucky town that doesn't allow alcohol sales.

I had seen Violent Femmes several times in the late 80s/early 90s, but the concert was free, the weather was tolerable, and the Happy Hour drinks were cheap.

After seeing the opening act, I made a career decision. I'm going to form a band that only opens for hugely popular groups, and call my band Get the Fuck Off the Stage. That way, as we perform our unknown songs it'll seem like the audience is chanting our name.

Drunk audience member: "GET THE FUCK OFF THE STAGE!"

Me: "Thank you. We'll be in Cleveland Thursday, opening for U2."

I'm also going to start spinning records under the name DJ Play Something We Can Dance To.

I can happily report that the Violent Femmes played with as much passion as they did fifteen years ago. The sound system was pretty weak from the upper level of Fourth Street LIVE!, but at least I was surrounded by drunken idiots.

Being a head taller than everyone in a crowd is good for seeing over people who aren't really interested in the music, but it also encourages said people to engage me in inanities.

For example, an attractive drunk girl mumbled at me for a few seconds and then stumbled off. This brief exchange set in motion what I've dubbed "The Douchebag Chronicles". Two guys standing next to me, about my age but MORE SO, if you know what I mean, witnessed my two second conversation with the hotness and decided to chime in.

douchebag 1: "Guy, you dropped the ball. If she asks a question, you answer with a question of your own. Then she has to talk to you."

douchebag 2: "You need to work on your game."

Keep in mind these guys are disarmingly good natured, but getting social advice from men who tuck in their t-shirts is just more than I can take. Their witless banter may work on cocktail servers angling for a nice tip, and the girls from the escort service undoubtedly laugh at their golfing jokes, but I don't think the real world is as kind to them.

The guy who did the most talking, the alpha douche if you will, was balding, so I said to my friend "I guess he would have put baby oil on his head and rubbed it all over her body." The guy didn't hear me, or pick up on the fact that I was mocking his used-car-salesman-cadence, and that's just as well. Eventually a shiny object diverted their attention and they walked away.

Oh, but the moronathon was just getting started, folks. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see a young guy with a Fidel Castro beard.

"You're really tall," he said in a tone that suggested he was amazed at the originality of his statement.

I muttered "Yeah, I am. Good call."

Here is a man whose prison is his own stupidity and he's never eligible for parole. I should have told him his face looked like a cunt with teeth, but I just let it go. I did say a silent prayer asking God to infest his beard with deer ticks, but I kept my mouth shut.

The indignities I suffer for the sake of rock and roll....


Blogger brookelina said...

Did the Femmes finally answer the all-important question, "Why can't I get just one fuck?"

Blogger Nick said...

You're living pretty fast and loose with the term "rock 'n roll".

Blogger KELSO'S NUTS said...

I come to your blog via jewgirl's, and as a 45-year old ex-punk rocker, turned professional sports bettor, living in La Ciudad de Panama, Republica de Panama, I can only say -- I AM FUCKING BLOWN AWAY BY YOUR SHIT, TIO. CHUCHA MADRE, PUE'...TU BAINA SIRVE DE PUTISIMA MADRE Y ESTOY LLORANDO DE HACERME FALTA NO VER LOS "VIOLENT FEMMES" HACE 18 ANOS O SEA.

It was a triple bill of MOJO NIXON, THE FEMMES AND SHANE MACGOWAN that went on for 6 hours at least.

I'll tell you some cool things about Pana, there's a lot more fucking than there is talking about fucking or bragging about fucking -- and here you can find with a got-damn search party a douchebag in a bar who tucks in his T-shirt and busts your balls for no good reason.

Keep up the good work. Wow! You even put down The Sundays on your list. Fucking Harriet Wheeler had pipes and could write, pue'...que paso d' ella?

Blogger Tits McGee said...

Yup. Saw the Mojo Nixon/Femmes/Pogues triple-bill back in the late '80s and it fucking rocked my tits. It remains the best concert I've ever fucking seen.

Also, I love you so goddamned much. I've mentioned that before, right?

Blogger KELSO'S NUTS said...

Erstwhile Slattern:

If only, if only. You saw THAT triple-bill for real? And you read Spanish? Tell me you love me again, please?

Or have I just cooked up and smoked too much Perico a Angelito en la cucharra con el bicarbonato de soda y agua pura secado con un encendor Bic? And tell the US Drug Czar I said so!


Attorney tells me to gear down to be in Panama a while, so the closest I'll get to New England is watching ESPN ESPANOL telecasts of Sawx games from Fenway on Cable Onda.

Congrats on I-Pod. Shuffle indispensible for me for the big stakes NL Omaha game I play here. Only problem is I will lose a little concetration when "Boys From County Hell"'s turn comes up.

Yours in sport,

Kelso El Puton ya (I'm still a slattern or whatever the word of antiquity for active male is)

Blogger Cold Hands said...

Ha @ "the alpha douche if you will"

You slay me once again.

Blogger Ćœbermilf said...

I didn't know you were tall. You're tall?

How's the weather up there?

Blogger Johnny Yen said...

About 20 years ago, some friends and I saw Rank and File, a band we'd liked in college at a small club in Chicago. We got there early to get good seats. This meant sitting through "Gone," Black Flag guitarist Greg Ginn's band. He played, basically, a 45 minute guitar solo. We started booing him every song.

Two days later, there was a review of the show in the Sun-Times, one of our papers here in Chicago. The reviewer ripped on Rank and File and praised Gone, but mentioned the jerks who were booing them.

We were so proud of ourselves!

Blogger Flounder said...

I saw Gordon Gaino solo in Atlantic City at a "Morning Zoo" road show. He started singing at about 6:30am and sounded freaking awesome!

Try getting Bono up that early.

Blogger Nick said...

I like your writing because you never really come across with a "holier than thou" attitude, which some might find offputting. You do realize you live in Louisville, KY, right? I was born there but I got away well before it was time to start dating my cousins.

Blogger yournamehere said...

no, they didn't.

go watch Transformers again.

Harriet Wheeler was the shit.

I love you, too.

cold hands,
the alpha douche's power of douchitude was awesome.

the weather? mostly annoyed with a chance of anger.

johnny yen,
Gone sounds like one of those unlistenable critics bands. Fuck 'em.

Gordon is a real showman.

if you think I'm "holier than thou" that's fine; I really don't care what you think.
But you have a lot of nerve insulting my hometown with a TIRED ASS "dating my cousins" joke. I'm glad you can throw stones from your glass house in oh-so-progressive Texas.

Blogger Sysm said...

Todd, you're for sure holier than me.

Blogger Tits McGee said...

I like holes.

Wait, what were we talking about?

Blogger Cold Hands said...

Wait they let Nick come to Texas? Son of a bitch.

Blogger Johnny Yen said...

I believe they're called "Critic's Darling Bands." Yes, they're the reasons people hate rock critics. It takes a special breed of human being to get to see bands for free-- and then rip on them. And then tout some band that sucks rocks.

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