Rock!

Last night I drove to Louisville to see Death Cab for Cutie. Sometimes I do just have to be emo. The concert itself was o.k., but the combination of people watching what passes for hipster or indie in Kentucky and the completely over the top theater made the whole excursion worth it. The other concert goers, mostly high school and college aged, were obviously tricked out in their hippest hipster duds. There was probably enough hair gel on the males present to burn the place down in five minutes flat. Luckily, there is no smoking allowed in doors in Louisville anymore. If this concert had taken place 4 months ago, I may not have made it out alive. As for the females, there was a strange proclivity towards wearing arm warmers. Little do they know that is totally manufacturing chic; I wear Kevlar arm warmers every day at work to protect myself against random glass injuries. I wonder what they felt they were protecting themselves from, the tide of emo tears during "I will follow you into the dark"? Emo tears do burn...

Anyways, the people watching was amazing, but the theatre, The Louisville Palace, was simply over the top. The stage is housed in a giant Chinese pagoda, set up to look like it's outside. The balconies and niches contained ornate Grecian urns and false Roman gods with artfully placed fig leaves. The ceilings were scalloped and embellished to the extreme of Rococo architecture, which contrasted nicely with the art deco paint job covering every scroll and fluted column. The floors in the were a mix of old, broken tiles and linoleum. The whole affect was quite overwhelming, making everything, including the mass quantities of emo kids and amusingly pretentious band, pale in comparison. Quite awesome.

Really, though, the concert itself was just kind of normal. I've seen a lot of concerts, ranging from huge arena concerts like Radiohead to tiny little club shows for bands that no longer exist like Radish. My standard, as a result, is fairly high, and Death Cab came no where close to the two concerts that stand out above all the others. The first concert of utter pleasure would have to be the Da Vinci's Notebook concert I went to with Jerzy the summer between Freshman and Sophomore year. At Club Passim, next door to Veggie Planet in Harvard Square, the room was packed in the middle with tables and around the edges with stand alone chairs. Jerzy had made reservations in advance, and apparently done a good job of it. Our table was directly in front of the stage. The opening act was not only humorous, the tall Rockapella singer's solo project, but actually surprisingly talentful for an opening act. The main act, though, was unbeatable. Da Vinci's Notebook may be the funniest people on the face of the earth. They kept the audience in tears from laughing so hard, teaching the sign language to "Enormous Penis" and making fun of the youthful looking couple at the table directly in front of them. I believe I was even serenaded to for "Title of the Song". The group was obviously putting all their energy into the show and the audience, small and packed in, was more than willing to reciprocate. The ended with the "Fuck You" song, which they have never recorded and practically never performed. The experience left Jerzy and I giddy as we ran for the T station in an attempt to catch the last train for the night.

The other concert that stands out in my mind is seeing TV on the Radio with Drew in what must have been the following fall. Downstairs in the Middle East on what I think was a school night, it felt like someplace I shouldn't be. The people there were too cool for me. I had heard TV on the Radio on NPR a few weeks earlier and Drew had bought the CDs from amazon immediately following. We were definitely music posers. Either way, the crowd was small, as the band was still in its pre-pitchfork-rave-reviews days, but quite dedicated to being there. The rain probably made the crowd even smaller, but everyone hung on every note. The audio looped and layered in lush, new ways when performed live rather than being remastered. The lead singer's voice was smooth with amazing depth and range. The entire group seemed to be channeling each other, seemingly never missing a beat. The Cambridge bar curfew came and went with merely a comment that the police could try to shut us down if they wanted. By the time we emerged into the rain-slicked street, the T had stopped running but the music echoing in our heads made everything great. For two hours, we had felt part of something different and wonderful. There is no accurate way to describe it.

So last night's concert was enjoyable and I do like Death Cab's music, but it wasn't the best I've ever had. On the other hand, the fight in the parking garage after the show where one heavily eye-linered girl accused another raccoon-eyed girl of ruining her Death Cab concert, may have been the best emo moment I've ever seen.