Many years ago he had greeted him, giddy with excitement before a show. He recalled how he attempted to string a semi-coherent sentence together. One that accurately and succinctly described how much he adored the lanky man before him, without falling flat on his face and tumbling arse-first down the slippery slope of fanboy-dom. Satisfied with his spiel, he spun around to his bemused girlfriend and yelped, “See!? I told you he was hot!”, only to have Skiba overhear him. “Thanks, man.” he said, chuckling.
Though it’s hilarious to hear him pine over the moment his idol mistook him for a flaming homosexual, I can’t help but think female fandom is so much less amusing and infinitely more complex than that of men.
As I spent a night at a club last week, chatting to a guitarist and singer of one of my most admired bands, the ideological line between genuine music fan and groupie became uncomfortably clear. As I punctuated my guffawing about their sophomore album with sips of a beer, random young females threw their arms around the unimpressed band members, grabbing at arses and nuzzling at necks.
Such behaviour increased and it was finally when two young things with their hair teased into oblivion offered to pash one another for said singer’s erotic entertainment that I called it a night and was left to wonder where all the legitimate fans were...Hello? Anyone out there??
1 comment:
Haha was that Unwritten Law by any chance..? Fucking tops weekend, remember my ankle swelling up lol?
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