tonight: just a fire w/some local acts
That was some great music. I didn't like them at first, but they completely grew on me. The singing especially... at first I thought, "oh great, another untalented shouter" but I was so wrong. He put so much passion into it, and I appreciate that.
A wicked bass player, as well. Fuck, that whole combo was good. I didn't think I could hear anything new from bass/guitar/drums, but I was wrong.
I'm glad I stuck around for the whole set.
Fashion rebellion in 2003: walk into a denver rock club wearing a nice white brooks brothers button-down shirt. Usually I go all hipstered out in my leather and tight jeans and boots and blackness, but tonight I felt like such a rebel. For the first time I noticed that EVERYONE was wearing black and leather. I was the only one in a white shirt... hell, the only one in light-colored clothes at all. That made me happy, for some reason.
A non-conformist among freakies, if I may be so arrogant.
And arrogance allows that I may.
For a while I considered that true rebellion these days would consist of becoming a materialistic republican conformist, but luckily I found that that schtick had already been run out... besides being, fundametally, oxymoronic hypocricy.
Why do I value rebellion? I don't know.
Does rebellion have an inherent value in and of itself? I don't know, but I feel that it does. Balance is required in all things, and the scales are tipped towards militaristic conformity these days. Chauvanism, in its original sense.
But I'm an existentialist in a town full of buddhists and hippies... so I don't take it too seriously.
That was some great music. I didn't like them at first, but they completely grew on me. The singing especially... at first I thought, "oh great, another untalented shouter" but I was so wrong. He put so much passion into it, and I appreciate that.
A wicked bass player, as well. Fuck, that whole combo was good. I didn't think I could hear anything new from bass/guitar/drums, but I was wrong.
I'm glad I stuck around for the whole set.
Fashion rebellion in 2003: walk into a denver rock club wearing a nice white brooks brothers button-down shirt. Usually I go all hipstered out in my leather and tight jeans and boots and blackness, but tonight I felt like such a rebel. For the first time I noticed that EVERYONE was wearing black and leather. I was the only one in a white shirt... hell, the only one in light-colored clothes at all. That made me happy, for some reason.
A non-conformist among freakies, if I may be so arrogant.
And arrogance allows that I may.
For a while I considered that true rebellion these days would consist of becoming a materialistic republican conformist, but luckily I found that that schtick had already been run out... besides being, fundametally, oxymoronic hypocricy.
Why do I value rebellion? I don't know.
Does rebellion have an inherent value in and of itself? I don't know, but I feel that it does. Balance is required in all things, and the scales are tipped towards militaristic conformity these days. Chauvanism, in its original sense.
But I'm an existentialist in a town full of buddhists and hippies... so I don't take it too seriously.
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
franandzooey:
Oh, I have your CD ready! It is all bubble wrapped and everything. I will mail it out first thing on Friday. Tomorrow the P.O. is closed. I am not usually this lazy. hehe. 
franandzooey:
Accidental posturbation. I like that. I am gonna' use that one.