The Mile High Music Festival daily schedule has been released. Some mild conflicts, although the chance to see DBT, MMJ, RRE, and DMB on Sunday allows me to fulfill all my acronym fantasies.
There is a Cougar Stage, but no Puma Stage. Is that sexist?
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
21 July 2010
20 July 2010
Just Announced: JJ Grey and Mofro with Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears
Three years ago, I saw JJ Grey and Mofro on a sleepy night in Memphis. Mofro's mix of swampy North Florida soul and juke joint funk gave two of my friends a reason to call in sick to work the next day. He downed several glasses of bourbon, hurled dollar bills at his horn section, and pushed his band over the bridge song after song. We shook our asses and hollered for more. JJ Mofro could put two steps into a paraplegic, so if you like dance parties don't miss them.
JJ Grey and Mofro will tour this fall with Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears, our generation's hipster James Brown. The two bands will play Colorado five times including a Friday night stop at the Ogden on September 17.
Check the "Looking Forward To" page for other upcoming shows in Denver.
!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
JJ Grey and Mofro will tour this fall with Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears, our generation's hipster James Brown. The two bands will play Colorado five times including a Friday night stop at the Ogden on September 17.
Check the "Looking Forward To" page for other upcoming shows in Denver.
!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
19 July 2010
Pitchfork Music Festival Awards
I rolled down to Pitchfork Music Festival Saturday and Sunday with my step-sister Austyn. We happily used public transportation, and we weren't alone. Each day, the Metra was packed with obvious Pitchfork attendees, including our favorites, Gage and the uber-hipster who spent 20 minutes Saturday tying his shoelaces just right. The Green Line was even more crowded with hipsters, and apparently tons of people rode bikes. Pitchfork did a great job putting on a true city fest with cheap tickets and minimal carbon footprint. Now, to the awards.
Best Line: "I'm sweating more than a pregnant nun standing in line to meet the Pope."
Energetic, bearded and history conscious Titus Andronicus frontman Patrick Stickles let this slip during one of his stream of consciousness bouts of banter. Titus Andronicus' hard and heavy set provided a needed jolt on Saturday, but this award is really for the Pitchfork Festival organizers. This is one of the best organized festivals I've ever been at. Using a tiny space to its maximum power by alternating side by side main stages and tucking a third, smaller stage behind the food tents, Pitchfork ensured that fans could easily see at least part of pretty much every performance if they were so inclined. The food and water were cheap, porta potties clean, and hassles non-existent. Even the too-long free-water line had a solid view of the Aluminum Stage. On a hot and humid Chicago weekend, Pitchfork deserves serious props for keeping everyone safe and happy.
Best Rock Band: Wolf Parade
Pfest was dominated by chillwave and electronica infused bands. There were a few blasts from the past and some hip hop mixed in. However, there were only a few pure rock bands. Wolf Parade's blistering jam on set ending "Kissing the Beehive" proved you don't need a laptop to rock.
Best Mass Exodus: From Panda Bear to LCD Soundsystem
I spent about twenty minutes at a disastrous Animal Collective set at Bonnaroo a few years back, so I didn't have high expectations for Panda Bear. However, I was curious and hopeful. However, Panda Bear only played one thing that I would classify as an actual song; the primary sound he emitted was more of an ambient buzz. Within ten minutes, hordes of people began to leave the Connector Stage to jockey for position at the Aluminum Stage next to it. Rumor has it, Panda Bear gets terrible stage fright and played the entire set with his eyes closed. Apologists say, "It's headphones music." Then don't play at a music festival.
Best Dance Party: "Daft Punk is Playing at My House"
LCD Soundsystem came out in attack mode. With disco ball turning, lights flashing, and the occasional glow stick flying, the first half of LCD's set produced a gyrating mess of dancing bodies. The band was tight and rocking. This was my first time seeing LCD and they brought the party. The peak for me was "My House," because it's my favorite LCD song and it came near the crest of that first wave of dance party goodness.
Best Evidence of Non-Hipsters: Crowd Surfing
Everyone has been 17 and wanting to crowd surf. People want to have fun and crowd surfing seems like fun. I even tried to convince Austyn to crowd surf. The Pfest crowd surfers didn't bother me as long as they followed two rules: the weight limit for a crowd surfer is 175 pounds and the age limit is 17. If you break one of these rules you are an asshole. If you break both, it is my right to grab a hold of your ankle and pull your fat old ass to the ground.
During live music, hipsters are supposed to stand still and occasionally nod their head. Is it a grand surprise, though, that Pfork's brand is becoming mainstream?
Best Reason to Throw a Water Bottle: Idiots dry humping on recycling bins
The only thing that aggravated me the entire weekend was the cluster of morons dry humping on a recycling bin during the second part of LCD. I could have pushed my way to another spot, but then I'm the asshole. When one of these idiots turned away from the stage and took out his iPhone, I pegged him with my water bottle from twenty five yards away. Right in the chest. Almost knocked the iPhone out of his hand. I was proud of my accuracy, but pissed he didn't take the message.
Best Peaked Trend: Neon-stem sunglasses
I lost mine white-water rafting last week and I won't buy another pair. The dizzying amount of blue, green, and especially orange (my color!) stems was stomach curdling.
Best Impending Trend: Jorts
Maybe this will quickly peak, but I can't get enough of the cut-offs. My only hope is that people are wearing these in the spirit of Tobias Funke. If not, I can't support them.
Best Sharon Osbourne Recruiting Target: Lightning Bolt
I'm not sure if Ozzfest still happens, but if it does, Lightning Bolt should be there every year. Lightning Bolt is a masked, insanely propulsive drummer and a bored dude making guitar fuzz. I've never seen drumming so persistent and even from the distance, I was a bit scared.
Best Stage: Balance Stage on Sunday
After rotating from stage to stage on Saturday, Austyn and I stayed under the shady oak trees of the B Stage most of the day. We missed Best Coast and Washed Out, but arrived just in time for Local Natives.
My expectations were too high, and Local Natives only half delivered. I wanted "Sun Hands" to be bigger and bolder. I was hoping for Aged Cheddar and got Colby.
Surfer Blood was accessible and breezy--an ideal afternoon fest set.
Here We Go Magic overcame their lame name with on-stage camraderie and Jennifer Turner's head bobbing bass lines.
Neon Indian was locked in and delivered waves of sound and flamboyance.
Then Sleigh Bells.
Toughest Decision: Sleigh Bells vs. Big Boi
Sleigh Bells is the sexiest new thing. Big Boi is royalty. Both were parties. When Major Lazer sampled "Riot Rhythm" my decision was made.
Second place: Local Natives vs. Beach House
Best Mosh Pit: Sleigh Bells
Visceral. It was so not-loud that the crowd chanted LOUDER after the first song. Alexis: "You want it louder?" YEAHHH. Austyn said she couldn't really hear her singing. Derek is only onstage so people remember it's a two person act. But, that was far and away, the most fun I had all weekend. Visceral.
During Neon Indian, Austyn and I ran into Gage who led us on a charge to about the tenth row, where we hit an unmoveable mass of devotees. We waited patiently as Alexis traipsed around the stage in pink sunglasses. The sound check for Sleigh Bells should take two minutes, but it took twenty. Then my brain stopped complaining.
From the first note of "Tell 'Em" until the last beat of "Crown on the Ground" a jubilant mosh pit erupted in crushing pandemonium. There was one girl incredibly barefoot, and a couple kids trying to escape, but everyone else was happy to be in the hyper-kinetic mass. Austyn lost her sunglasses, but recovered them, perfectly intact, except missing both lenses. We emerged soaked in sweat and beaming. I was still buzzing 15 minutes later.
Best Moment of Honesty: "Do you guys have our album? Because it's only 32 minutes long; we don't have anything else to play."
Allison poured her heart into the performance, even stage diving during closer "Crown on the Ground. But when the crowd chanted for "One More Song," she ashamedly apologized to us before leaving the stage. They didn't have any song to play for an encore, and this is why I chose to see them over Big Boi. I don't know what they can do for an encore.
Best Reason to shop for records, sit under a tree, and leave a song early: Pavement
Pavement after Sleigh Bells was like chasing a shot of Bacardi 151 with a cup of orange juice. Pavement sounded great, but I went to Pfest for the zeitgeist not a greatest hits album.
Best Line: "I'm sweating more than a pregnant nun standing in line to meet the Pope."
Energetic, bearded and history conscious Titus Andronicus frontman Patrick Stickles let this slip during one of his stream of consciousness bouts of banter. Titus Andronicus' hard and heavy set provided a needed jolt on Saturday, but this award is really for the Pitchfork Festival organizers. This is one of the best organized festivals I've ever been at. Using a tiny space to its maximum power by alternating side by side main stages and tucking a third, smaller stage behind the food tents, Pitchfork ensured that fans could easily see at least part of pretty much every performance if they were so inclined. The food and water were cheap, porta potties clean, and hassles non-existent. Even the too-long free-water line had a solid view of the Aluminum Stage. On a hot and humid Chicago weekend, Pitchfork deserves serious props for keeping everyone safe and happy.
Best Rock Band: Wolf Parade
Pfest was dominated by chillwave and electronica infused bands. There were a few blasts from the past and some hip hop mixed in. However, there were only a few pure rock bands. Wolf Parade's blistering jam on set ending "Kissing the Beehive" proved you don't need a laptop to rock.
Best Mass Exodus: From Panda Bear to LCD Soundsystem
I spent about twenty minutes at a disastrous Animal Collective set at Bonnaroo a few years back, so I didn't have high expectations for Panda Bear. However, I was curious and hopeful. However, Panda Bear only played one thing that I would classify as an actual song; the primary sound he emitted was more of an ambient buzz. Within ten minutes, hordes of people began to leave the Connector Stage to jockey for position at the Aluminum Stage next to it. Rumor has it, Panda Bear gets terrible stage fright and played the entire set with his eyes closed. Apologists say, "It's headphones music." Then don't play at a music festival.
Best Dance Party: "Daft Punk is Playing at My House"
LCD Soundsystem came out in attack mode. With disco ball turning, lights flashing, and the occasional glow stick flying, the first half of LCD's set produced a gyrating mess of dancing bodies. The band was tight and rocking. This was my first time seeing LCD and they brought the party. The peak for me was "My House," because it's my favorite LCD song and it came near the crest of that first wave of dance party goodness.
Best Evidence of Non-Hipsters: Crowd Surfing
Everyone has been 17 and wanting to crowd surf. People want to have fun and crowd surfing seems like fun. I even tried to convince Austyn to crowd surf. The Pfest crowd surfers didn't bother me as long as they followed two rules: the weight limit for a crowd surfer is 175 pounds and the age limit is 17. If you break one of these rules you are an asshole. If you break both, it is my right to grab a hold of your ankle and pull your fat old ass to the ground.
During live music, hipsters are supposed to stand still and occasionally nod their head. Is it a grand surprise, though, that Pfork's brand is becoming mainstream?
Best Reason to Throw a Water Bottle: Idiots dry humping on recycling bins
The only thing that aggravated me the entire weekend was the cluster of morons dry humping on a recycling bin during the second part of LCD. I could have pushed my way to another spot, but then I'm the asshole. When one of these idiots turned away from the stage and took out his iPhone, I pegged him with my water bottle from twenty five yards away. Right in the chest. Almost knocked the iPhone out of his hand. I was proud of my accuracy, but pissed he didn't take the message.
Best Peaked Trend: Neon-stem sunglasses
I lost mine white-water rafting last week and I won't buy another pair. The dizzying amount of blue, green, and especially orange (my color!) stems was stomach curdling.
Best Impending Trend: Jorts
Maybe this will quickly peak, but I can't get enough of the cut-offs. My only hope is that people are wearing these in the spirit of Tobias Funke. If not, I can't support them.
Best Sharon Osbourne Recruiting Target: Lightning Bolt
I'm not sure if Ozzfest still happens, but if it does, Lightning Bolt should be there every year. Lightning Bolt is a masked, insanely propulsive drummer and a bored dude making guitar fuzz. I've never seen drumming so persistent and even from the distance, I was a bit scared.
Best Stage: Balance Stage on Sunday
After rotating from stage to stage on Saturday, Austyn and I stayed under the shady oak trees of the B Stage most of the day. We missed Best Coast and Washed Out, but arrived just in time for Local Natives.
My expectations were too high, and Local Natives only half delivered. I wanted "Sun Hands" to be bigger and bolder. I was hoping for Aged Cheddar and got Colby.
Surfer Blood was accessible and breezy--an ideal afternoon fest set.
Here We Go Magic overcame their lame name with on-stage camraderie and Jennifer Turner's head bobbing bass lines.
Neon Indian was locked in and delivered waves of sound and flamboyance.
Then Sleigh Bells.
Toughest Decision: Sleigh Bells vs. Big Boi
Sleigh Bells is the sexiest new thing. Big Boi is royalty. Both were parties. When Major Lazer sampled "Riot Rhythm" my decision was made.
Second place: Local Natives vs. Beach House
Best Mosh Pit: Sleigh Bells
Visceral. It was so not-loud that the crowd chanted LOUDER after the first song. Alexis: "You want it louder?" YEAHHH. Austyn said she couldn't really hear her singing. Derek is only onstage so people remember it's a two person act. But, that was far and away, the most fun I had all weekend. Visceral.
During Neon Indian, Austyn and I ran into Gage who led us on a charge to about the tenth row, where we hit an unmoveable mass of devotees. We waited patiently as Alexis traipsed around the stage in pink sunglasses. The sound check for Sleigh Bells should take two minutes, but it took twenty. Then my brain stopped complaining.
From the first note of "Tell 'Em" until the last beat of "Crown on the Ground" a jubilant mosh pit erupted in crushing pandemonium. There was one girl incredibly barefoot, and a couple kids trying to escape, but everyone else was happy to be in the hyper-kinetic mass. Austyn lost her sunglasses, but recovered them, perfectly intact, except missing both lenses. We emerged soaked in sweat and beaming. I was still buzzing 15 minutes later.
Best Moment of Honesty: "Do you guys have our album? Because it's only 32 minutes long; we don't have anything else to play."
Allison poured her heart into the performance, even stage diving during closer "Crown on the Ground. But when the crowd chanted for "One More Song," she ashamedly apologized to us before leaving the stage. They didn't have any song to play for an encore, and this is why I chose to see them over Big Boi. I don't know what they can do for an encore.
Best Reason to shop for records, sit under a tree, and leave a song early: Pavement
Pavement after Sleigh Bells was like chasing a shot of Bacardi 151 with a cup of orange juice. Pavement sounded great, but I went to Pfest for the zeitgeist not a greatest hits album.
09 July 2010
HAWT LIST #Another new page
So, of course you want to know what I think is hot in the world of hip music, huh? Of course you do. I am starting another new page called the HAWT LIST. It's like rankings.
1. Big Boi - The anticipation for Sir Lucius has been building like a pack of bees on a jar of spilled honey. Starting with "Shutterbug" then "Tightrope" I have neither wanted nor been able to get Big Boi's stuff out of my head. A total sonic separation from dre3 makes the vivid genius more apparent, and thus more addictive. Upon the actual release, all expectations were eclipsed and hopes fulfilled.
2. MIA - For all the grandiose demonstration, I currently could care less about MIA's new music. I wouldn't say it's sagging like a couch on a college house's porch, but the ooh and ahhh factor might have left ol' MIA behind; shock factor still present. **Update: I gave it another long listen in a different state of mind, and holy shit, I will be listening a third time. Like right now.
3. Wavves - Nathan Williams is a classic demonstration of how easy idiotic self promotion and clever genre positioning can carry you a long way. Take a sample chorus: "I'm an idiot/I'd say I'm sorry/But it wouldn't mean shit." This works great as the hook to a Sum 41 song, but that would have deprived them of their priceless One Hit Wonder tag. Look, if he just played as "Nathan Williams" no one would give a shit.
4. Janelle Monae - It's too soon to tell how much growing power she has, but she has the diva quality to sustain a continuous, simmering HAWTNESS from this moment forward. I will have a beer in my hand and a rail spot in the middle of the first balcony before she goes on at the Ogden this fall.
5. Dirty Projectors - This might be late. I think there might have been more words written about the release of Mount Wittenberg, than Mount Wittenberg itself. If you haven't listened yet, let's change that.
6. Best Coast - Yeah, I admit it, next time I am in L.A. I will seek out a surfwave show.
7. Panda Bear - The buzz is just a little more than a trickle now, but that is about to change. Animal Collective may have shaved some of PB's rough edges from his experimentalism letting the Brian Wilson backbone of his sensibility poke through a little more. And Pitchfork is in a week.
(Waiting list: ceo, ariel pink-meh)
(Still simmering: Broken Bells, Sleigh Bells, cowbells-not, the roots-because they always are)
?!?!?!?!?!?!
1. Big Boi - The anticipation for Sir Lucius has been building like a pack of bees on a jar of spilled honey. Starting with "Shutterbug" then "Tightrope" I have neither wanted nor been able to get Big Boi's stuff out of my head. A total sonic separation from dre3 makes the vivid genius more apparent, and thus more addictive. Upon the actual release, all expectations were eclipsed and hopes fulfilled.
2. MIA - For all the grandiose demonstration, I currently could care less about MIA's new music. I wouldn't say it's sagging like a couch on a college house's porch, but the ooh and ahhh factor might have left ol' MIA behind; shock factor still present. **Update: I gave it another long listen in a different state of mind, and holy shit, I will be listening a third time. Like right now.
3. Wavves - Nathan Williams is a classic demonstration of how easy idiotic self promotion and clever genre positioning can carry you a long way. Take a sample chorus: "I'm an idiot/I'd say I'm sorry/But it wouldn't mean shit." This works great as the hook to a Sum 41 song, but that would have deprived them of their priceless One Hit Wonder tag. Look, if he just played as "Nathan Williams" no one would give a shit.
4. Janelle Monae - It's too soon to tell how much growing power she has, but she has the diva quality to sustain a continuous, simmering HAWTNESS from this moment forward. I will have a beer in my hand and a rail spot in the middle of the first balcony before she goes on at the Ogden this fall.
5. Dirty Projectors - This might be late. I think there might have been more words written about the release of Mount Wittenberg, than Mount Wittenberg itself. If you haven't listened yet, let's change that.
6. Best Coast - Yeah, I admit it, next time I am in L.A. I will seek out a surfwave show.
7. Panda Bear - The buzz is just a little more than a trickle now, but that is about to change. Animal Collective may have shaved some of PB's rough edges from his experimentalism letting the Brian Wilson backbone of his sensibility poke through a little more. And Pitchfork is in a week.
(Waiting list: ceo, ariel pink-meh)
(Still simmering: Broken Bells, Sleigh Bells, cowbells-not, the roots-because they always are)
?!?!?!?!?!?!
08 July 2010
Upcoming Shows
If you spend your time wondering how Muse has enough fans to play the Pepsi Center or lying to yourself that you don't want to go see Lady Gaga, I started a new page to list the upcoming Denver shows I am most looking forward to. Don't buy tickets before me though, that'd just be an asshole move. Or buy one for me. Yes, that's the move.
My list hardly includes the work week ruining run at the Ogden Theatre starting on Sunday, August 8: Hot Chip-->Crystal Castles-->Temper Trap-->Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes-->Blitzen Trapper. They better be handing out free 5 Hour Energy samples.
Here are some videos:
Yes, that Hot Chip joint reminds me of a Backstreet Boys video too. Hilarity.
My list hardly includes the work week ruining run at the Ogden Theatre starting on Sunday, August 8: Hot Chip-->Crystal Castles-->Temper Trap-->Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes-->Blitzen Trapper. They better be handing out free 5 Hour Energy samples.
Here are some videos:
Yes, that Hot Chip joint reminds me of a Backstreet Boys video too. Hilarity.
Film on the Rocks...
Tuesday night I went to Film on the Rocks. We left halfway through Raising Arizona, when it started to rain, but before that were treated to the best music showcase Red Rocks has to offer this year: Grace Potter and Danielle Ate the Sandwich.
If you don't know, Danielle Ate the Sandwich is Youtube sensation, Lilith Fair ready Fort Collins resident Danielle Anderson playing ukulele. I commented that her music was a bit twee, which got a look of disapproval from Lizzie. Although I didn't like her subdued tunes, I would like to share a bagel and coffee with Danielle, who seemed like a rambling conversationalist. Plus, it's just cool that she's playing ukulele.
I was really pumped for Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. She has great pipes and a rawk girl attitude. Plus, she is backed by three longhairs straight out of Almost Famous and a bumping female bassist. I was wowed by them at a festival a few years back. They rocked, and the tunes were danceable, but I spent the whole night waiting for them to play their old songs, and they never did. It seems to me that they are a little to purposefully put together; Grace Potter definitely has the talent to hit it somewhat big, but right now the sound is halfway between corporate crowd pleasing and organic jam session. This is a tough tightrope to walk successfully (see: Robert Randolph and the Family Band).
The dichotomy here is between the glorified DIY and the constructed band. I don't know if this even matters. Danielle's set was more natural. Grace's was a bit erratic, as if she was throwing songs at the dartboard that is corporate radio, hoping one would stick. Her band's talents superseded Danielle's tenfold, but if music isn't coming from a place of passion, I will ultimately dismiss it.
If you don't know, Danielle Ate the Sandwich is Youtube sensation, Lilith Fair ready Fort Collins resident Danielle Anderson playing ukulele. I commented that her music was a bit twee, which got a look of disapproval from Lizzie. Although I didn't like her subdued tunes, I would like to share a bagel and coffee with Danielle, who seemed like a rambling conversationalist. Plus, it's just cool that she's playing ukulele.
I was really pumped for Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. She has great pipes and a rawk girl attitude. Plus, she is backed by three longhairs straight out of Almost Famous and a bumping female bassist. I was wowed by them at a festival a few years back. They rocked, and the tunes were danceable, but I spent the whole night waiting for them to play their old songs, and they never did. It seems to me that they are a little to purposefully put together; Grace Potter definitely has the talent to hit it somewhat big, but right now the sound is halfway between corporate crowd pleasing and organic jam session. This is a tough tightrope to walk successfully (see: Robert Randolph and the Family Band).
The dichotomy here is between the glorified DIY and the constructed band. I don't know if this even matters. Danielle's set was more natural. Grace's was a bit erratic, as if she was throwing songs at the dartboard that is corporate radio, hoping one would stick. Her band's talents superseded Danielle's tenfold, but if music isn't coming from a place of passion, I will ultimately dismiss it.
02 July 2010
Get The Led Out
I used to love listening to music on the radio. Mainly in high school. Right after I got my driver's license. Before I started thinking and listening independently. Nowadays, I still listen occasionally, when I'm on a drive and it's not worth the time to choose. I still embrace at least one corporate rock convention, and have adopted it as my own. Sometimes, I still gotta GET THE LED OUT!
Now is such a time--I'm typing as "Dazed and Confused" is about to start on Side 1 of one of my dustiest vinyls--and it reminds me of a story.
Back in the college days, when I was prowling the streets of Madison like an alley cat, a few of my buddies and I were holed up at the Plaza Tavern. This was probably a Wednesday night in the dead of summer, because there weren't but us, a dozen other patrons, and two bartenders present.
After a beer or two, I filled the jukebox and picked my four songs. My second selection was "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You." Just as the rolling thunder melted into Robert Plant's howl, one of the bartenders skipped the song. I didn't even know they could do that.
Me: Did you just skip the song.
Barkeep: Yeah.
Me: Why?
Barkeep: Now is not the time for that song.
Me: What? There's never a bad time for Led Zeppelin.
Barkeep: Well I don't want to hear it.
I was out of my booth at this point. It wouldn't have been the first time I was given the boot from the plaza, but I managed to sedate myself after ten seconds of glare down. Instead of a screaming match, I took my seat, enjoyed the next song, then put another dollar into the jukebox and played "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" four straight times. After skipping it twice, and jeers from the entire bar, the barkeep finally let it play and I won. If you count paying $1.50 to hear "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" as victory. Which on that night, I did.
Now is such a time--I'm typing as "Dazed and Confused" is about to start on Side 1 of one of my dustiest vinyls--and it reminds me of a story.
Back in the college days, when I was prowling the streets of Madison like an alley cat, a few of my buddies and I were holed up at the Plaza Tavern. This was probably a Wednesday night in the dead of summer, because there weren't but us, a dozen other patrons, and two bartenders present.
After a beer or two, I filled the jukebox and picked my four songs. My second selection was "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You." Just as the rolling thunder melted into Robert Plant's howl, one of the bartenders skipped the song. I didn't even know they could do that.
Me: Did you just skip the song.
Barkeep: Yeah.
Me: Why?
Barkeep: Now is not the time for that song.
Me: What? There's never a bad time for Led Zeppelin.
Barkeep: Well I don't want to hear it.
I was out of my booth at this point. It wouldn't have been the first time I was given the boot from the plaza, but I managed to sedate myself after ten seconds of glare down. Instead of a screaming match, I took my seat, enjoyed the next song, then put another dollar into the jukebox and played "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" four straight times. After skipping it twice, and jeers from the entire bar, the barkeep finally let it play and I won. If you count paying $1.50 to hear "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" as victory. Which on that night, I did.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)