Prickle-Prickle, Discord 61, Year of Our Lady of Discord 3173
OK. So first things first. I'm not 25 feet tall. Nor am I a gifted photographer. Nor do I even own a camera. I stole, um, er........ borrowed these pics from some website. Basically it looked the same.
I went into this show with/and being a fairly new
Bright Eyes fan because of
Lindsay. I came out with soiled trousers and a brand new man crush.
The night started out with a couple of observations:
- #1. If a ticket says the show starts at 7:30, the show really starts at 9:15.
- #2. I am old. Not old in the traditional gumming-my-food-drooling-on-myself-pooping-my-pants- screaming-at-kids-as-they-run-across-my-yard-whilst-playing- a-hotly-contested-game-of-stickball-generally-creeping-out- my-great-grandkids-with-my-waaaaay-to-long-hugs-pats-on -the-ass-and-sloppy-old-spice-laden-kisses kind. No. No not that kind at all. More of a "JESUS HERBERT CHRIST LOOK AT ALL THESE DAMN KIDS AND WHEN THE HELL DID KIDS START CARRYING CELL PHONES AND WHEN DID THESE DAMN KIDS START DRESSING LIKE THAT AND WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BEHAVE AND I KNOW I DIDN'T ACT LIKE THAT WHEN I WAS A KID" kind.
Once the show started I tried to forget about all that jazz. The opening act was a band from Omaha, Nebraska (which is of course where Connor Oberst and Bright Eyes are from) called
McCarthy Trenching. However, try as we may, we could not make out the name of the band no matter how many times it was said by various persons on stage throughout the night.
At first I thought they were pretty good and I wanted to buy their album. Then it appeared they were pretty much playing the same song over and over just with different themes and introductions such as: "this is a song about the west" or "this is a song about cowboys" or "this is a song about crickets" or "this is a song about spaghetti" or "this is a song about how I think of touching little boys but I don't. My reasons for not going through with my sick, sick primal boy rape desires is that I don't want to make baby Jesus cry". You know, the usual.
Next up was a joyous family bandish hodge podge of musical delight. They went by the moniker of
Oakley Hall. They were brilliant. It was like countryish, rockish, folkish.....stuff. They put on a great show. They are my new favorite band.
Before I tell you about Bright Eyes, I would like to tell you about a weird Phenomenon/Crisis which has hefted itself upon us. It is in these dire times, when live music in Dallas is just barely hanging on by a limp noodle of an appendage, that the giants living amongst us have decided to pounce and destroy our rock show experiences with their 6ft 5in demonry. I mean seriously folks, where in the biscuit tossing world did all these tall people come from. I had to stand on Lindsay's shoulders just so I could get a fleeting glimpse of what I thought was a musical performance going on in front of us all. It was like camping. It was in tents.
Anyhoo.
Bright Eyes. The main attraction. I don't want to go on and on and on and on about how amazing it was. Although it was. I don't want to drool all over my computer and pants just thinking about how incredibly stupendous it was. Although I am. There were about 14-15 people on stage most of the time. 3 drummers. A couple of cellists. Flautist. Saxophonist. Keyboards. Guitar. Bass. Violin. And various other multi-talented musicians. They had a guy in the back making art with various objects and then projecting them onto a screen behind the band. He was doing it live. It was fairly interesting.
They ended the show with what seemed like a 10 minute version of "Road to Joy", which from the first time I heard it has been my favorite tune in the very extensive Bright Eyes catalogue. However, to say they ended with that song is not telling the whole story. They actually ended the show with noise and a bit of violence. Just as I thought Mr. Oberst was taking off his guitar off to smash it into a million musically useless fragments he freaking hands it to the audience. Just hands it off. Can you believe that. That guy must be mentally retarded. He then proceeded to rip apart the setup on stage. He through some flowers at the audience. He kicked over some percussion jazz. It was great. Not something I agree with doing but something I seriously love watching.
Then, as we were leaving the venue. Lindsay was having a bit of a hard time getting out of her parking space because people (at times) can be bitches. So, she just backed right into somebody. I was like "HOLY SHIT LINDSAY, CALM THE FUCK DOWN"! Then she slapped me in the face. She told me she had no problem backing over my legs and then kicking me in the twig and giggle berries. Then, when some lady had a problem with her driving. Lindsay made me piss on her and her kids. It was very scary. Never in my life have I been so frightened. In fact. I'm still frightened. I hope she doesn't read this and get pissed and then travel to my apartment and douse me in gasoline and set me on fire and then laugh while I melt. I hope not.
(there may have been some writers discretion used on that last little bit)
