A Plea from someone with bad eyesight…


{This picture is of a wall in think cafe’s bathroom. I swear in the next few days I’ll take the camera for a walk again and get some slightly more relevant pics }

0125_Truth is Alive

last night i went to see the weakerthans at the red room in vancouver.

the opening band was ‘murder by death’ from indiana. it took them a couple of songs to get into their groove and they played a very noodle-y song at the end of their set that probably was pushing it a bit, but overall they were quite good. very heavy low end sound at times, which i quite love. i was also quite impressed by the bass player: he was able to play bass and smoke a cigarette through two songs without having to remove the cigarette from his mouth once. such talent.

the weakerthans were great, of course. the ‘four-piece power punk band from winnepeg’ had magically expanded to what looked like a seven piece band at times. the show had a ‘celebration’ type energy, maybe because this was the last stop on their n.a. tour that looks to have started in early november.

but back to the space: this space was a good size, but there wasn’t a decent sightline from anywhere except for the mosh pit. most of the “in between band time” was spent, for me, mentally redecorating the space: maybe if they added some different seating here, took away some there, it would work.

then, of course, in my sightline i get drunk frat boy. at least he was of the loud singing type: he knew all the words to all their songs. but i didn’t really come to hear random guy live out his dreams of being a sideline john k. samson. even more.. i didn’t come to get the real weakerhans blocked by toqued singing guy.

i don’t entirely blame the toqued frattie though: the sightlines were shit. most i could see when toqued frat boy cleared out was a clear shot of what looked like the back of carolyn mark’s drummer’s head. however, two times toqued frat boy looked back and saw me, not more than five feet behind him, and he chose to stand right in front of me: once when I was sitting and once when standing. there was plenty of room for everyone, yet buddy thought he needed to be as uncourteous as humanly possible.

thus my open letter to the loud singing drunk frat boy (done, of course as a toast with beer in hand):may the road rise up to hit you and may your toque spontaneously combust.

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