But no, I'm not late for work, nor was I late this morning. But I digress. I need to blog. I let this blog die. I still want to RVG all over the place, but without writing much, that's kinda hard (might rupture my internals with too many Grachan Moncur III anecdotes coursing through my veins). So I'm back. Like cooked crack. My only promise is to not write about not writing. To quote Nick Swardson's criminally overlooked 2007 masterpiece,
Party, "Shit's weak!!! Shiiiiitt's Weeeeaaakk!!!" And I ain't about no weak shit. Play with your playstation or something.
Anyway, last night's show at ye newe
Summit, you know, the bigger
Cafe Bourbon Street next to Cafe Bourbon Street, was pretty goddamn baller (EDITOR'S NOTE: SPELL CHECK DOESN'T LIKE BALLER?!?!? SEE SWARDSON QUOTE ABOVE!) if I do say so myself. First up was
The Lindsay, who were celebrating the birthdays of members Gretchen and John. Man, this was my favorite Lindsay set in a boxful of grips. I have had my doubts about their new material in the past, but I think last night erased them. They're definitely louder and more rugged than the past, but their sound has been sharpened to a point, even when they slop around a bit. Which will happen on a birthday show. Watching Crow and "Dancing Suited Dude" shake and shimmy next to each other was funny.
Next up was the
Guinea Worms. I really haven't focused on many Guinea Worms shows in my days, but this was another strong set for the evening. Will Foster has an intense stare and goofy/weird dance moves, which lead to some sweet, alternate universe stage presence. He also referenced the
HOBOKEN CHICKEN EMERGENCY! I can never convince anyone of its existence, so Mr. Foster's efforts were greatly appreciated. (EDITOR'S NOTE: It turns out my childhood memories stem from a TV movie based on a children's book of some cult popularity, which is probably what Will was actually talking about. But the movie featured Dick Van Patten, Gabe Kaplan, and Peter FUCKING Billingsley, so that'll do JUST FINE!) Anyhoo, the rest of the band joined him in some surprisingly tight heavy rock jams. By the end of the set, the bass/drum sound was reminding me of "Bulls on Parade," which was really weird. Overall great stuff, though they threw out their "Free Pass To Sell $5-$6 of Merch To Andrew Patton Because We Mentioned the Hoboken Chicken Emergency" by not bringing any merch. Next time, fells!
Finally, headliners and pleasant Detroiters
Tyvek came on to close the evening, and not a moment too soon, as they started at 1 AM and finished their sprawling, "no dudes, let's play some more songs" set around 1:50. It was a workmanlike effort, but it would have been better a bit earlier, which was not their fault. Anyway, I've recently been thinking about whether Tyvek works as the interracial "shitgaze" version of Cheap Trick. There's two nerdy-looking white guys, a cool-looking white guy, and two cool-looking black guys. OK, that sentence was kind of a joke, but kind of serious. The jams were plenty ramshackle, but still rocked pretty hard. I guess three guitars will help with that. The audience highlight of this set and the night (well, other than the running theme of Crow sticking his head in the woofer on the rockinest parts, ROFL) was "the human rock 'n roll spasm." This young lady apparently really liked Tyvek, and showed it by freaking the fuck out. Flailing arms, kicking/two-stepping legs, really weird one-shoulder dance (one shoulder moved forward and backward very haphazardly while the other one stayed relatively still), big hair head-roll (metal headbangin' style), and just general convulsions. Shit was ridiculous. I think I overheard her friends talking about escaping outside for a smoke because they couldn't stand to watch the carnage. I hope she controls herself to keep her friends, ROFL.
All said, a fine evening and hopefully a foretaste of the Rocktober to come. More writing ensuing!
