Boredoms tonight at the Knitting Factory Hollywood, courtesy genericus who had the foresight to get tickets.
IT WAS AWESOME.
Three drummers in perfect discipline who never stopped. Crazy guy yammering and making synths go woop. Loud as hell. The drumming was precise and powerful and it hit me in my face, pushing said face backwards. Insane dreadlocked Japanese guy capered about like a demon from a Lafcadio Hearn story, making shrieks and feedbacky noises and hurting the synthesizers. Occasionally he duetted with the woman drummer. He also played an instrument that appeared to be a set of lighted balls connected to a thing and another thing, that he juggled around, also dancing on some kind of DDR platform, making sounds and lights consistent with fatal electrocution, fire, and amplifier destruction.
The audience was about 20% Comic Book Guy, 20% Music Freak, and 60% hipster. There were a lot of guys there that I collectively call The Boyfriends, because every time I’ve met one of them it’s because it someone’s boyfriend. Tall skinny clean-cut white guys with glasses, collared shirts, shortish hair. I hate them all because they are boyfriends and I’m not. You could totally tell who was there for the music because they were funny looking and way too focused, and who was there because they felt they had to be there.
I only had to shove a couple of them to keep them from rolling over and crushing the_silent_one. By the way, it was she that pointed out that the Knitting Factory made the mistake of Having Nice Things in a rock ‘n’ roll bar, and then fixed this mistake by taking out the Nice Things. All of the very sophisticated lounge atmosphere of the place is scraped and gone, and it’s all caution tape and security guys and concrete and fuck you and a vague smell of urine. Still sounded pretty good and there was sufficient oxygen.
We had to go by the Star Wars Wrong Line morons on Hollywood Blvd. both ways. The second time there was some Dorkus McGorkus in a Darth Suit waving a lightsaber around on top of some structure, causing traffic confusion and also causing the locals to point and laugh.
DID I MENTION THAT THE SHOW WAS AWESOME? It was almost as loud as Glenn Branca at Schoenberg Hall in 1983. I really wish I had remembered my earplugs.
I didn’t understand the opening act very well, but I liked him. He was doing something between Moroccan trance music and Eno’s ambient, with lots of drumming. He shouldn’t use the guitar, because it just sounded like he was trying one at the shop, but I liked his drumming and ululation.
This is the second show in a row that the floor has been flexing for most of the time.