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September 05, 2002 Someone Choose Who's Left and Who's Leaving I. Prologue. Tonight, doing a 360 degree turn at the Knitting Factory unveilved to me the simple fact that I sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd full of pseudo-rebellious punk wannabe teenagers and hyperactive college kids with enough imagination to make pigs fly. But that was okay, because I was there to see the Weakerthans, one of my favorite bands, one whom I almost magically discovered, and yes, bloody hell yes, for once, they actually came down south far enough to reach my neck of the woods. II. The Rocking Horse Winner. Listening to the tracks with your eyes closed (or maybe just looking at their lead singer) makes me think they were the punkier, slightly more energetic version of the Cranberries. That's not to say they weren't impressive or were, on the other hand, a copycat act. It's just that I kept on feeling that deja vu. In the end, her voice made it every bit enjoyable. III. Greg MacPherson. First song was very Coldplay-stealing-Radiohead, but slowly moved on to angered, Henry Rollins-is-my-daddy type onlaught which tended to get a bit annoying. But nonetheless, another enjoyable act. IV. Atom and His Package. Punk version of Weird Al Yankovic, you could say, with a slightly more political/ethical overtone. Other than that, the three fuckers mosh-pitting next to me really ruined this for me. Albeit, I must say I was surprised when another set of three guys started dancing a-la Roxettes and out of nowhere grabbed me to join it. It was a short-lived fantasy fulfilled. V. The Weakerthans. Absolutely amazing. Standing for three hours with a sprained ankle amidst a crowd that I didn't initially feel comfortable with would usually result in a night to be forgotten. But no, John Samson and crew made it worthwhile. Very much, indeed. To be honest, I wish I could say how much I enjoyed this, but words are escaping me. It was definitely on par with the Cibo Matto performance last summer (minus the supersweet voice of Miho Hatori). What really makes this band so great, so uplifting and makes me feel unusually content are their lyrics. Simple and beautiful words that can and should be taken at face value. Somewhere sympathy is more than just a way of leaving. Somewhere someone says 'I'm sorry.' Someone's making plans to stay." So tell me it's okay. Tell me anything, or show me there's a pull, unassailable, that will lead you there, from the dark, alone, benevolence that you've never known, or you knew when you were four and can't remember. Where a small knife tears out those sloppy seams, and the silence knows what you silence means, and your metaphors (as mixed as you can make them) are linked, like days, together. —This is a Fire Door Never Leave Open V. Epilogue. The atmosphere of liberal and collegiate independence has a smell for love. Or something to that effect. It smelled like her lips tonight, like before, and it made me feel like I was in that place again. Maybe it's psychological, with the same style and punkish attitude, or maybe it's just true. Maybe there's a distinct smell for that lifestyle. Maybe. « First Day of School / The Kids Are Out to Play | Something Supersonic, Ultraviolet and Lovely » | |||