So, sometimes, when you are a music writer, like I am... you are forced to attend shows by yourself.
It's a lonely and awkward time for the first 10 minutes, but more often than not, I tend to find someone to shoot the shit with, or pretend to flirt with at least.
Last week, I had quite the evening of shows ahead of me. I saw 3 bands at 2 different venues. The first show, I attended with a group of friends, and it was enjoyable to say the least. After the set was over, I jetted off around the corner to the next venue to see 2 more bands play (one of whom I was reviewing).
It was a Thursday night, and it was 1130 pm. I was getting to that point where the tiredness becomes grumpiness and awkwardness expressed on my face and in my body language. I was this sluggish mess of my prior self. It happens to all of us, I know it does (or at least that's what I tell myself).
Reflecting back on my body positioning, I must have looked pained and strained to anyone in my vicinity. This is an odd look to have at a music performance. Ooops, my bad.
I don't really try to disconcert others from coming up to me, but it just happens sometimes. Even when I was younger, strangers in the street would tell me to smile, cheer up, wake up, the works I tell you. In response, I learned to tell them that saying something like that to a downright stranger was in fact going to make said stranger feel worse. And then, I just started walking around with either a forced smile on my face, or with wide doe eyes, just so people would stop bothering me. ...Analyze me later, please, read the rest of this now.
Long story short, I'm sure you are wondering where is the music bit of this whole post?
So I got approached by this very very tall person. He was so tall, I could almost not hear him speak to me. After about 5 minutes of awkward conversation, attempting to talk loudly enough above the music, and my being on my tiptoes and such, you would think this man would have given up.
Alas, but no! He did not, and hung out next to me for the rest of the evening.
IT WAS AWKWARD. I had thought that I was perfectly portraying one of those sullen, dreary moods that most people would be deterred from, rather than encouraged by. Not this man. Apparently my attitude and body language was a welcome challenge?
Now, I am not complaining. He was good looking and charming in that awkward manner.
But, later on, we ran into 2 of his extremely wastedly drunken friends. They proceeded to gush about his musical stylings and incredible bass playing, like he was the God of Williamsburg.
I had thought that things could not be more awkward...but they quickly became so.
Why do people think that it is charming to brag about a friend to one of said friend's new friends/romantic interests? IT'S JUST AWKWARD. Especially if they are saying that he is the. best. musician. ever.
I guess they didn't know they were talking to a person who writes music reviews. I should have said something. But, I was exhausted.
On that note, a band that I really really really like right now, that probably is one of the best bands coming from their country at the moment, is Feldberg, from Iceland. My friend Chuck manages them, and they just won the best song of the year award at the Iceland Music Awards this past Saturday.
They are a combo of singer/songwriter/laptop jockey Eberg (Einar Tonsberg) and his eerily beautifully voiced a la 1920s early Jazz era Rosa Isfeld. Essentially, they have this whole ephemeral feel, what one might call an icy and cloudy like sound.
Feldberg uses electro, experimental, and folk tones to create dream-like, swimmingly pleasant stories through vocals and melodies. I'd like to think that their music is best suited for a flight above Iceland, peering down at the landscape below.
Yeah, weird right? I know. But listen to their album, it's awesome.
Check them out here: www.myspace.com/feldbergmusic
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