ah, the pure bliss that is one monsieur meloy. photos forthcoming, of course. I came in boldly with my camera and the printed email with the decemberists' open photography policy from the management people, and get shushed to the side. one guy was ready to give me a photography pass, the other one ran away and returned with The Good News: that colin says it's fine, as long as I don't flash.
that means he kind of, like, talked to me.
current rotation, by the way, courtesy of the divine dave lewis:
national eye - roomful of lions
head like a kite - random portraits of the home movie
metal hearts - socialize
the first two are starting to get under my skin. I'm also hankering for much newness and catchings up, I don't know if I talked about it in the last post but I'm way behind. good thing kristin and steve are full blown crackheads with handfuls of new releases on tuesdays, with access to a server. I'll have to repay the debt when I'm not broke, but for now I can stay up to date. the thing is, I really will purchase the albums I like when money's not so much of an issue. if I could, I'd wear a shirt every day that said don't steal music, you fucking asshole. but somehow I don't think my mom (or strangers in the grocery store, for that matter) would really go for that.
so - yeah, the show. it was so bizarre, going to a show kind of in midtown, which is what I associate times square and the theater district with because it's all near the museum of television and radio. so all the goings on during kexp in nyc time take place there, and it's mostly office buildings and shopping and then hustling bustling big bright theater chaos. so many lights that you turn the corner to 42nd street and you almost hit things. buzzing marquees and travelling red lights around huge signs and clocks and just all this stuff. what a ridiculous amount of electricity - so - after all the one way dilemmas and a thirty dollar parking lot, we manage to get in to the theater as the opener for the opener is finishing. perfect timing.
our fourth row seats were perfect for colin and for laura viers as well - she sang of white spider stars exploding down from the sky and about how if you came spelunking into the cave of my insides, would you see the bats and still want to stay - perfect. that, along with a good amount of loops and voiceovers and recorded beats rounded out the set nicely. I mean, I wouldn't pay thirty bucks to park to just see her, but I'd for sure catch her again and possibly get into some of her albums. she's good stuff.
they didn't keep us waiting long for colin, and his cast of characters on a red cloth covered table. erick, the sheep, to remind us of life. cheryl, the woman's skull, of course, for death and our ultimate demise. and a pirate ship, to represent, um, ships. and all things maritime related. rounded off with a bottle of ancient shiraz (cabernet, I think) that he misunderstood someone yelling about and thought we wanted to name it girard. and girard it was.
he took us through so much, decemberists songs and new songs and these beautiful brilliant moments that you would have paid every cent you had for. in the middle of some of the songs, during a step away to strum, it was like he got into our blood and bones and insides just for a few seconds, not even a minute, and pulled us in. everything from los angeles to shiny to california one / youth and beauty brigade to the shirley collins songs, red right ankle and the bicycle song and swinging back and forth like ben and laura and everyone from the northwest seems to do as they strum, regardless of tempo. there were crushed red velvet seats dedicated to women named may and authors and poets, heavy pulled back curtains, high ceilings with carved archways and gilded railings and worn carpets. he sang weird and wonderful and nothing turns out right and engine driver and something about these hideous butchers and everything came out of the corners of his mouth so perfectly, I wanted to crawl up onto the stage and just lie there, arms spread, taking it all in through every pore.
it was, simply, gorgeous. we love colin endlessly.
the ride home, as the ride there, found us with one wrong turn and a sudden unfamiliar highway - I think amy was my bad luck charm in that respect! just kidding - but otherwise the trip was perfect. we talked the whole time and saw other girls from the toad's show, who actually yelled out my name as I took pictures of the venue at intermission. I think people that have no association with aa, the regular people if you will, are not only way less desensitized than we are - like when our friends like, smoke crack or whatever - but there's also a degree of being desensitized to the other end of it too. the day to day existence of wanting to live better, talking about whatever's going on, being open and self aware and stuff - I just don't know if everyone lives like that or not. she seemed to think that I was pretty insightful, and I was like, no, this is just how we are.
this is just how we are.
more to follow, kiss kiss,