The parking guys outside concerts are so sad. They stand in their satin windbreakers and wave red light sabers wildly, trying to attract your eye, get you to park in their lot. They want you to pick them. They are working for their money, and they don't get to go to the concert.
A lot has happened, and continues to happen, which makes it harder for me to blog. I need to go play guitar right now, too.
I did a thing for Spin with Dave Grohl the other day, which involved playing him a shitload of hits from the last year, and he said that he hates the Vines. He said it's "buy your angst at the mall" music. It's funny, because I agree with him, but that's also how I feel about the Foo Fighters, in a very different way.
Anyway, I told him about how I think he's the greatest drummer since John Bonham, but I didn't add on the part about how he's the secret superhero of Nirvana, as Ringo was in the Beatles. I wanted to, because I've been thinking about it ever since I blogged about it ages ago. But he's such a dewd, it just didn't feel normal to suddenly be all serious.
It was liberating to hear what he had to say about the Vines, because I really don't like "Get Free." It makes me angry and pukey. It's not so much that I think it's fake; I just hate the whiney-ass shitty sound of his whiny-ass voice. What the hell does he have to be sounding so pissy about?
Dave Grohl said something on the order of, You know, there's more to life than this sound. There's more to experience, there's more to music, period. He made a motion with his hands cupping his ears and then shooting his arms out wide. There's all kinds of music.
I think what he was saying was similar to what I was feeling about the new Nirvana single. In 2002, that song sounds kind of dead, to me, pardon the word choice. It's not very interesting musically and it's very non-interesting emotionally. It feels like a dead-end.
The one thing I really regret about him dying is that he didn't get a chance to expand into the universe of music, as I know he would have.
He would have, because he had such an open ear.
People with closed ears, who believe in a singular ethic and sound in music, are destined to be unoriginal.
None of the great pop songwriters were/are closed-minded.
And now, speaking of 6/8 time signatures, I saw the amazing local unknown talent I've been raving quietly about here and there on this blog. I saw him tonight, opening for a British band. Damned if he didn't have a bunch of that waltz stuff too, plus switching in and out from 4/4. Fudge, man, it's the best. Not to mention the elegant and twisted key changes.
I wish I could say his name, but I'm still superstitious. One good thing is that the night I saw him at the Hotel Cafe, when he blew my mind, I told Tracy, "This guy needs a makeover." He had the really bad-fashion/dirty guy look of someone long single. You could tell there was probably a cute guy in there under the beard and railroad-engineer cap, but he was trapped.
He has had that much-needed makeover and, as expected, it turns out he's a total hunk and a half. His hair is in a shaggy bob, sorta Cobainy.