Archive for April, 2007

Pollen and the Act of Living
April 27, 2007

Pollen

(n.)- The fertilizing element of flowering plants; Evil in powdered, yellow form. Noiseless killer of the innocent and undeserving. Destroyer of all outdoor activities, a restful nights sleep, social lives, and general glee.

(adj.) – Hateful, vile, odious. Ungodly, the opposite of all things pure and/or honorable; objectionable to the nth degree.

(v.) – Punch, pummel, repeatedly strike while a victim is down and crying; to eradicate an existence.

Was anyone else naively fooled into thinking that, because they made it through almost all of April with little more than a sore throat, that their pollen allergies had somehow, in a miraculous act of God, jumped ship? Then, this week, did you also wake up to the horrifying visual representative of a Buttercup yellow crayon having been sharpened all over the street, your car, and nature?

Yeah, me too.

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Why I Am Impressed (V.1)
April 25, 2007

Last night, waiting outside Wilson Blvd’s FrontPage Restaurant, I was reminded why I enjoy not being a drunken frat boy at 8:30 on a Tuesday evening, in April (ok, or ever), but how really, they’re not so bad. Starting on the inside of the double glass doors, the scraggly haired, probably ex-lacrosse player drew his hands (each in the shape of a pistol), paused to make sure I was paying attention, and leaned through the doors like he was escaping a heavily guarded penitentiary. Then, making those innate boy/gun/explosion noises, he shot me. Five times. Part of me maintains and laments that he may still believe the age-old, male generated, theory that girls are impressed by loud noises and violence. However, the other half likes to think that a compliment, is a compliment, is a compliment, even if it’s coming from a drunken frat boy at 8:30 on a Tuesday evening, in April.

A Brick Wall of Indie
April 10, 2007

Here are some things I do not believe in:

1. Santa Claus.

2. My ability to make it from home to work without spilling coffee on myself.

3. The “fact” that local Indie rocker’s Le Loup have only played a rumored two “real” shows together.

I’ve been to Arlington’s Iota Club a fair amount of times. Never have I not been able to, at the very least, easily walk in the door after flashing my horrid driver’s license picture, especially on a Monday night. So I was nearly floored when I moseyed my way up Wilson Blvd. around 9:15 pm and straight into a fortification of concert-goers. Some of them were howling, as Le Loup’s mascot seems to be a stately wolf (the kind found on t-shirts in every gas station on the Pennsylvania Turnpike); and others were just trying to not spill beer, as there was virtually little to no bottle-to-mouth room.

As they played for an hour, with no encore (the group literally played every one of their songs), I tried to draw up an accurate description of the band that literally came out of nowhere and packed Iota like the lot of them were scantily clad and giving away free jello shots. Inevitably someone will ask me “who they sound like” and I like to have an answer ready. So here is my answer. I heard a little Silversun Pickups and then that led to a little Cat Empire, which made way for drum intros not unlike the techniques of Wilco’s Glenn Kotche. Then I gave up because comparison is not always the best depiction. Le Loup is a colossal brick wall of experimental indie; seven people band-ed together (with a beamy French horn), a quality not all collaborating musicians achieve in a live show. Correction: in their second live show.

If the rumors are indeed true, then Le Loup is way ahead. So ahead even that I was not the least bit annoyed that lead singer Sam Simkoff sported his own band’s wolf imprinted t-shirt, a vice that I believe to be in the Top 10 Rock & Roll Don’ts of All Time. Check out the surpassing of rules at myspace.com/leloupmusic.

Do Not Feed The Hippies …
April 6, 2007

… they’ll eat what you drop, anyway.

That’s right, Widespread Panic is back in town. If you need your fix of songs that end long after they’re supposed to, head over to the Warner Theatre tonight and tomorrow night. Remember to bring your earplugs, you’ll need them to plug your nose.

Do not let go of your drink until you are finished with it, or you might as well just go straight back to the bar.

Do not talk to any wookies or trustafarians unless your floor sleeps 20.

If you do get stuck in such a conversation, do not make plans with the wookies for after the show. “After” can last for days …

If you have an extra ticket, by all means, look for that single finger pointing upward and moving down the line and back, but do not let the trustafarians try to talk you down from face value. If they even attempt it, put the extra ticket in your mouth, chew slowly, swallow and turn away.

Do not point your fingers anywhere but down whilst you dance.

And do not eat the brown cheese sandwiches. At least, don’t pay for ’em.