Trying to get work done and not being able to is the most depressing thing on earth. I’m trying to come up with something I can possibly put in the abstract I have to turn in for my syntax paper on Monday and my brain is all fuzzy and I’m trying to read articles, but I just keep feeling like they’re not getting at the heart of the matter, but I can’t remember what the heart of the matter is. Whenever I go to get an idea from my head, I lose the idea I was trying to connect it to.
I had a crazy night last night. Okay, so I went to the Of Montreal concert by myself because Suzanne was hanging out with some friends of hers who are only in town this week and I get to the concert way too early because I was worried about it selling out (I need to realize that in Columbia the opening band never goes on before ten, concerts in Boston are over at ten, that’s because they are crazy about sleep in Boston). So I ended up talking to this guy who works at the deli downstairs from my house. He was talking to me more, but I kept answering him because I didn’t want to be rude, and also because I have trouble holding my opinions back sometimes. We were talking about “indie cred” and how you could lose it (i.e. having your song in a Target commercial) and then he was talking about how sometimes at a concert the band stops singing so the audience can sing the words instead and what happens when the audience doesn’t know the words and what about that moment in the band’s career when, for the first time, the audience does know the words. And what if it was my favorite band? And what if it was your favorite band before that, but what if it was your favorite band because of that? Then you lose cred.
The opening band went on late and came off relatively soon. Then there was the hugest wait for Of Montreal. Here’s how long it was, about twenty minutes into the wait they started playing Guero, and they played all the way through Guero before Of Montreal got up there. I was getting annoyed because the local indie theater was showing The Beaver Trilogy at midnight, the only showing, and I really wanted to see it. I was also getting really annooyed at all of the eighteen-year-olds and the drunk thirty-something women who thought they were eighteen-year-olds. So Of Montreal came out and of course they were amazing and Kevin Barnes was not wearing any pants! That man is crazy, no, beyond crazy! But very few people were dancing and I was just so sad that I wasn’t seeing them at Lamar’s with all of the Covenant dancing people and last time I saw them there was glitter all over and Bill was there and last night was just damned depressing in comparison, so I danced like a mad fiend for half an hour (the pinnacle being Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse, oh my goodness amazing) and then I dashed out of there to see The Beaver Trilogy, which was completely different from any other movie, mainly because it’s three movies, put together, and one of them is real and the other two are just like that one, except not real, and because it has Sean Penn and Crispin Glover, playing the same character. And the people there reminded me that even though the concert kids were obnoxious, I still love the people in Columbia. Well, there are still cool people in Columbia, let’s put it that way.