Thursday, May 11, 2006

I just won't be defeated

Upon returning from a weekend in Rome, I found this e-mail waiting for me:

From: Unemployed Adam
(name subject to change pending news of employment)
To: Me
Date: May 9, 2006 5:08 PM
Subject: go see a concert

if the Go! Team and the Pipettes played a show together in new york, it would change my life. they're playing in paris tomorrow night, at a club called Trabendo. I know you've been traveling, but if you're back, this is not a thing to pass up. you have to trust me.

hope all's well.


Way to send me a last-minute e-mail, jerk.

I almost didn't make it for the following reasons:
1) I was absolutely exhausted
2) My Paris friends are lamer than I am, so no one was there to drag me kicking and screaming to what would undoubtedly be a good time.

Almost didn't make. At the last minute, I pulled myself together, played Ferris Bueller to my own Cameron Frye and talked myself across a dodgy part of town over to the concert venue.

I haven't been to a proper concert in quite some time - it may very well have been the Decemberists show I went to with Quimby the night before my very last college exam, which was just about a year ago - and this is the first time I've ever gone to a concert alone, so I was a little unprepared for what happened.

When I got there, the Pipettes were one-and-a-half songs from the end of their set, but that was enough for me to see that they were the coolest trio of British chicks to ever grace a stage. Neo-sixties matching dress-wearing girl groups are the next big thing, I'm sure of it. But I digress.

After their set the lights came on and I moved down to the mosh pit area in front of the stage, at which point there was gunfire. A shot rang out and the French girl standing next to me screamed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her fly backwards a foot or two. I turned, steeling myself to see a body lying in a steadily expanding pool of blood.

But no, she was fine. It was just the sound technician fiddling with an amp, but it really did sound like a gunshot. We all had a good laugh about that (although I don't think that particular girl ever thought it was very funny.) So, yes, I was lying when I said there was gunfire.

After that, the Go! Team came on. Let me tell you: these people are crazy people, but they know how to put on a show. Equal parts Motown, funk, old school rap, and Schoolhouse Rock, with a dash of Urban Outfitters cheerleader thrown in for taste, they just don't stop. I really mean that, they don't ever stop moving. I've never seen a band run around stage so much, which may be the reason why I didn't take a single picture of their show, but here's a photo I took of the empty stage after the "gunshot incident."

I already said this, but it bears repeating: the Go! Team are crazy. I kind of hope they were on speed during the concert because, if not, they are just the happiest, most energetic non-real estate agents I have ever seen, and that idea kind of creeps me out. They're a little too fond of the call-and-response thing, but other than that I loved them all too well. I would write more about them, but I have no photos to go with it and this post is already rather long, so I'll just skip to the end.

Their show ended just as wildly and suddenly as it began, with the male guitarist jumping into the pit and crowd surfing for a while before being swallowed up by the mob, all of whom wanted a piece of him. At that moment, all the lights went out.

I'm not sure if my life has been changed, but I had a really great time. I was happy when I walked out of the club, and so I took this photo:


Blogger adam said...

you actually went! that is great.

and i didn't even know this blog was active again!

May 18, 2006 11:58 AM  

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