August 8, 2007

Nothing like a huge gig to break a long running, albeit somewhat self-imposed gig drought. And nothing like checking out bands that fall slightly beyond your comfort zone, to remind you there is indeed life beyond The Arty and it’s non stop smorgasbord of live punk rock.

Last Friday I was lucky enough to score a much-sought-after seat at Bloc Party’s amazing Festy Hall show. As predicted it was swarming with cardies and I immediately felt out of place amongst hip young indie things (otherwise known as ‘those fuckers who manage to scour the city’s thrift stores- unperturbed by old man stench- and come out with 5 killer outfits).

Try accompanying a friend of alternate musical tastes to their next outing and see if it broadens horizons or at least appreciation of this city’s magnificent live music scene. Word from the wise (or retardedly naïve, if you will) though, you may need to sink a couple drinks before you can escape the distinct feeling of mortal fear and self consciousness involved immersing yourself in dissimilar music scenes.

I once battled my way through conflicting feelings at a hip hop gig when I was barraged by a rapper’s self-important lyrics and had to fight madly to repress the usual wildly amused reaction in favour of a impressed / intrigued one. It may seem a wise solution to stifle laughter in a pot of beer- THIS DOES NOT WORK UNLESS YOU ENJOY BROTHY BUBBLES CIRCULATING MADLY THROUGH YOUR SINUSES. The snorting and gasping that accompanies is also relatively undesirable in such an environment.