Just so you know, I’ll never link your pathetic little MySpace band from this blog. I’ll talk about you (probably for the worse), but I’m not gonna link to your lazy, artless ass. But I gotta admit, it is easier to watch you fail at art on MySpace or YouTube than to actually leave the house and have to go through all of the bullshit that goes with that hassle. And the MySpace world is curious just because it is to totally fucking ponderous fact that bands that can’t draw 18 people to a public lynching somehow get 31,02,938,123943,342 friends and 8976,423,432.324 song plays. Is anyone leaving the house anymore?
When you look at the typical MySpace phenomena bands, are they always going to be abrasive and loud attention whores from the Midwest (e.g., Dane Cook / Bacon Shoe / Black Nasty)? Oh, wait, Bacon Shoe isn’t a phenomenon or anything — they just fit the other criteria. Is Black Nasty a phenomenon? Is Dane Cook from the Midwest? Oh, fuck it. What I’m sayin’ is that I get some “witty” new MySpace link to follow e-mailed to me from some inconsiderate asshole every, oh, thirty minutes. And when I get there, I am one of 24325,534,8712,34 people who are suddenly listening to something “witty.” And there sit their 234,34,356,1,7 semi-Asian-looking lingerie-model “friends” staring at me. Just fucking stop it.
Hey, is it still funny to be a fat chick? Is it funnier to be a fat chick if you make fun of yourself rather than be the target of klutz jokes on bad sitcoms? Do they really fall down a lot? Because that shit is FUNNY. Especially if they are fat guys dressed like fat girls falling down. You know that guy who says, “You know you’re a redneck if you (fart, eat, etc.)”? That is what I’m talking about, only without the guy part or the redneck part or the joke telling part. That guy is the equivalent of Chris Farley. No “joke”, no variation, no talent. Just the same exact form over and over and over like sitting on a jury looking at autopsy photos for three or four days straight. But Chris Farley could put on a dress and fall down and people would laugh like it was the first time. And then he would do it again. And then mess up his hair. And people would LAUGH AND LAUGH every time. Funny shit, I tell you. I wish he would have lived long enough to eat that sack of shit with the redneck “jokes.” That guy has sold 20 times more records than Richard Pryor, and that is reason enough to justify hating your entire culture and then killing yourself (like Hemmingway; maybe he predicted this).
What I’m getting at (that at which I am getting): I’m confused about the fact that I am considering going to the Leslie and the Lys show at The recordBar on December 11th in Kansas City. If you’re one of the “I do all my socializing on the internet because I find it less threatening” majority, then I’m sure one of your 11th level druid friends from your video game community has sent you a link to this Chris Farley wanna-be. I think she can kind of sing, but I can’t figure out if her schtick is ironic-fat-chick schluck, or picked-on-revenge-fat-chick schluck, or if it is just generic nerd-schluck or what. Is she the girl who sat behind Black Nasty in detention or is she the girl who sat behind Black Nasty in Advanced Calculus for Grade School Gifted Kids? Which one is it? Which decidedly untalented and unfunny sewage wave are they trying to ride: Napoleon Dynamite or Neil Hamburger or those jokers from Columbine High School? When they go home, are they doing lines with people who aspire to be Paris Hilton and Missy Elliott, or are they doing lines with people who are plotting to assassinate The President of the graduating class of 1991 at Davenport High School?
So this Leslie Hall chick is fat and has big hair and no fashion sense. Fucking hilarious. Obviously people haven’t had past lives as stools in Las Vegas or they would know that fat, big-haired, overdressed women are as pervasive as mosquitoes. There isn’t anything particularly funny about her schtick, so either I’m missing something, or somehow people have made being your average Iowa Wal-Mart patron worth 1000 page-hits-a-day. I don’t get it. I want to find out that I am missing something brilliant. No wry smiles, no novel takes, nothin’. Is she setting us up to laugh with her, or is she exploiting herself so we can laugh at her? WHAT AM I MISSING? Is this all a joke on me? Am I laughing at a great actor portraying a pathetic mess (like that hilarious Michael J. Fox guy), or is laughing at her being a pathetic mess a horrible thing to do (like laughing at that Michael J. Fox guy)? I see that she is trying to be ironic, but those ain’t pillows….
The upside is that this is at my favorite club in Kansas City. Not my favorite current club in Kansas City, but my favorite club in the history of Kansas City. So if I go and I find that there isn’t a subtext that I am missing, I’ll still be able to eat a vegan pizza created for me one night by recordBar cook Wes Gartner (out of his desperation to “feed the vegan” - who doesn’t hate a vegan?). That is worth the trip if he’s there (the same pizza kind of sucks when he isn’t there to crack the whip).
People are promising me that this will be really funny. I suppose it might be. But are times really so desperate that talent, irony, and “funny” are all equated? Is she going to have “talent,” or is she going to be fat and fall down? And won’t I really enjoy it more if latter is the case? Will she take requests (please be fat and fall down a lot!)?
In other news, we are all missing the Steve Reich celebration in New York. Now that is just sad. Steve Reich @ 70 is going on and I’m talking about a Wal-Mart greeter with a webcam.
- Hello Goodbye / Reggie and the Full Effect / Cute I s What We Aim For / Dave Mellilo; 15 Nov; Granada (0% chance)
- Topeka Ascension Ork’ester, This is My Condition as special guest, 17 Nov; Grace Episcopal Cathedral (71% chance)
- Gay Beast / This is My Condition / Witch & Hare 29 Nov; Jackpot Saloon (94% chance)
- Split Lip Rayfield, 01 Dec; Liberty Hall (62% chance)
- Leslie and the Lys, 11 Dec; The Record Bar (71% chance)
On a serious and sad note:
Larissa Strickland, guitarist for the absolutely mind-bending Laughing Hyenas, died at some point over the past month. I’m sure you dig bands influenced by her / them. One of the most intense live experiences I’ve ever had. I saw them almost throw down with some redneck soundguy at a joint called The Outhouse many years ago; I’ll probably get to that story at some point. They sure seemed like one scary fucking band. Many years later, my band toured a few months with Mule, which formed out of a split from Laughing Hyenas, and I got to hear some great stories. People should remember that all this “music” shit used to be really tough business.
Strickland (Larissa) was a teeny person with a huge, controlled guitar sound that was very unique and self-taught. When I saw them, I thought that they were all on parole for murder or something, but it turned out that she was this goofy, giggling mess. Very sweet and endearing when she was in control. The picture below says it all.
Don’t do drugs, kids.
