Look, I'm only human. Cullen says I'm unguarded and it's true, but I can only be me. But sometimes that means being sensitive, grumpy, angry, and generally unbearable. It's these times you should hope I'm hiding at home under my covers with Ryan Adams' new CD on repeat (which for at least part of my weekend, I did). The Band of Horses show irked me big time. It's nice to hope being called out is something you can just brush off, but the truth is I probably slept about an hour last night because that and other weekend stuff was on my brain and I tossed and turned all night long. I appreciate all the people who messaged me about my rant and understood my need to vent about it. Fortunately I can predict that my funk was just a weekend thing and by the time I'm watching Jim James tonight at the Belly Up, everything will be all good again.
I did mention that the Band of Horses pre-show was a good time, so I want to still post a couple funny pictures we took out on the patio while the two opening bands did their thing.
Other than that video on the other post, BoH gets no pictures posted. Sorry. Once the incident occurred, we booked it outta there. We headed to the Ken Club and were able to catch most of Fifty on Their Heels and all of Vinyl Radio.
It was good to see friendly faces; for me that means friends and the bartenders, I'm sorry that other people continue to have issues there.
It's not that I measure the bar with a different stick, it's just I've never personally experienced any problems there. Yes, the sound could be better. The band room could use a couple good lights, some a/c, and better sound equipment. Don't even mention the constant suggestion that the bathroom needs more stalls. I know all this. But then it wouldn't exactly be a dive bar, would it? And vodka tonics would cease to be $3 bucks. And when all of you aren't there for a show, us locals are the ones in there essentially keeping the lights on. Just the way it goes. Also, the sound isn't nearly so terrible if you buy some good earplugs. Just a suggestion you might consider.
Saturday was Sophie's birthday at the Beauty Bar and I thought I was in a better mood butI guess I really wasn't, so I did my best to fake it. It was nice to get there early (thanks for the drinks, CatDirt) so one could actually have a conversation before the DJs raised the volume to 11 and all parts of a conversation are prefaced with "what? I can't hear you!"
When the bands started, I watched passively. During the Vultures I was tucked in the back where there was a gap in space and I could breathe. I did take a couple pictures of Fifty, but since I'd just seen them the night before, I was pretty passively watching them, too. I stuck around as long as I could, but while attempting to pass the dancefloor, I got popped in the face...a definite sign I was not supposed to be there one second longer. Learn from my lesson...do NOT attempt to pass by the dancefloor while sipping your drink. A flailing conversive arm came up under my drink and slammed my plastic cup into my bottom lip while drawing a tiny speck of blood from biting my lip. The boy whose enthusiactic gesture knocked my drink was very apologetic and he raced to get me napkins (in case there was more blood) and then promptly replaced my drink, so it definitely wasn't any bad on his part, just wrong place at the wrong time, but when the cosmos speak, I listen and I bid adieu to the birthday party.
When I got to the Ken Club (I didn't say I was totally done for the night), Roxy Jones was playing in the band room. "Don't you dare bring out that camera," Peter joked, but it wasn't coming out anyway. The BoH thing definitely knocked me down a few pegs and I'm gonna be a little shier with the camera, I suspect.
Anyway, nothing particularly exciting on Sunday, unless you wanna hear how easy it is to drop serious cash at Target on kitty litter and toiletries. I watched the very hilarious and ridiculous "Sweet 16: The Movie" after catching pieces of the "Blingest Sweet 16" countdown. The winner: the son of Pebbles whose dad is a record exec...they spent over a half million dollars on his party. It's really disgusting actually, and I hate myself for watching any of it. Feeling shame, I realized that I should make something of my night and finally saw Firethorn play at the Zombie Lounge.
I was happy that when I walked up, the guys were all outside and hadn't played. I missed the opener, but did get to catch the full set of Tigers of Wrath. The singer's voice was a little high on the register for me considering his speaking voice was deeper, and he would pull his head away from the mic as a sound effect, which didn't really work for me. When he did belt it out and directly into the mic, they sounded 10 times better. They're doing a west coast tour, so I hope the experience helps them and I can catch them
Firethorn played next and I liked that they were more melodic than 97% of the bands who play the Zombie. That doesn't make them soft, it just means they actually sing instead of just yell. There were as many girls there to see them as guys, which I think definitely says something positive about the band. Plus, they're three of the nicest guys and completely supportive of other local bands with a near perfect attendance record for Tim Pyle's events, supporting all genres of local music.
I didn't stay for Someday Assassin thinking I was completely tired and then as I mentioned, I slept maybe an hour total waking up at least 30 times. It was pretty awful. Maybe I should've stayed and done a shot to knock me out... next time...