The Futureheads @ the Fonda
with the French Kicks. As expected, the Futureheads were great fun; but it's truly a rare treat when you get a stellar opening band as well. The French Kicks were kinda froofy artsy music, except HELL on the old skins. I have a weak spot for an aggressive rhythm section.
The world around me is changing, but only I remain the same.
Every once in a while, I see some token that this is true...and it's deeply unnerving! Around this time last year, I went to my first Futureheads show and met these two guys, Graham (I'm pretty sure that was his name) and his friend - let's say, Josh (blanking on real name).
Graham was a geeky English dude, slightly balding, and very nice to me. We talked about Oscar Wilde and Marcel Proust. I remember him because I thought he looked just like an English archaeologist I know named David.
"Josh" was a cute waifish dude, a hipster who didn't quite dress the part, and very hostile to me. He dismissed me as soon as I said I was there to check out a band I had never heard before, and when I told him what bad music I did like. I remember him because I thought he looked just like a hipster archaeologist I know named Josh.
At the end of the night, they went off to afterparty with some English girls they'd met at the show. By then, I was their friend, and they invited me to join, but I declined. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do set limits for myself.
I thought I saw them again tonight - which is not all that amazing, since it would have been weirder if they didn't show. Josh was unrecognizable because of a new stubble, but Graham looked exactly how I remembered him. I was 90% sure it was them. I didn't say hello, however, because they had some chicas with them (looked like a double-date)...and you know, it's always bad form to be cute and present in situations like that. I wondered with amusement if these chicas were the self-same English girls of last year.
And that's when I got that lightning bolt, that everyone had moved forward in a year except me. Grahams was looking less geeky, Josh was dressing closer to the telos of his inner-hipster, and all of them had found a Somebody they hadn't had a year before. Only I was the same. A year's labor harvested only it's yield of sufferings - sufferings that have come and gone, leaving me perhaps with a deepened sense of humanity (because suffering constitutes humanity), but mostly just striving to regain equilibrium.
And there it was. Only I hadn't changed because only I was yearning toward conservatism instead of change. And maybe the reason I put such a high premium on my having big balls and spontaneity is because I'm afraid I'll never move forward. It's a frightening thought, and a lonely one. I would like to mature with the times, just like everyone else, but perhaps I know deep down that I'm incapable of gambling with my core stability. Perhaps I'm constitutionally not wired to take risks, for all my rhetoric and ideals against cowardice.
The world around me is changing, but only I remain the same.
Every once in a while, I see some token that this is true...and it's deeply unnerving! Around this time last year, I went to my first Futureheads show and met these two guys, Graham (I'm pretty sure that was his name) and his friend - let's say, Josh (blanking on real name).
Graham was a geeky English dude, slightly balding, and very nice to me. We talked about Oscar Wilde and Marcel Proust. I remember him because I thought he looked just like an English archaeologist I know named David.
"Josh" was a cute waifish dude, a hipster who didn't quite dress the part, and very hostile to me. He dismissed me as soon as I said I was there to check out a band I had never heard before, and when I told him what bad music I did like. I remember him because I thought he looked just like a hipster archaeologist I know named Josh.
At the end of the night, they went off to afterparty with some English girls they'd met at the show. By then, I was their friend, and they invited me to join, but I declined. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do set limits for myself.
I thought I saw them again tonight - which is not all that amazing, since it would have been weirder if they didn't show. Josh was unrecognizable because of a new stubble, but Graham looked exactly how I remembered him. I was 90% sure it was them. I didn't say hello, however, because they had some chicas with them (looked like a double-date)...and you know, it's always bad form to be cute and present in situations like that. I wondered with amusement if these chicas were the self-same English girls of last year.
And that's when I got that lightning bolt, that everyone had moved forward in a year except me. Grahams was looking less geeky, Josh was dressing closer to the telos of his inner-hipster, and all of them had found a Somebody they hadn't had a year before. Only I was the same. A year's labor harvested only it's yield of sufferings - sufferings that have come and gone, leaving me perhaps with a deepened sense of humanity (because suffering constitutes humanity), but mostly just striving to regain equilibrium.
And there it was. Only I hadn't changed because only I was yearning toward conservatism instead of change. And maybe the reason I put such a high premium on my having big balls and spontaneity is because I'm afraid I'll never move forward. It's a frightening thought, and a lonely one. I would like to mature with the times, just like everyone else, but perhaps I know deep down that I'm incapable of gambling with my core stability. Perhaps I'm constitutionally not wired to take risks, for all my rhetoric and ideals against cowardice.
posted by Rex at 12:39 AM
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