Capital "I", Capital "T"
Continuing my rather busy week on the town, Tuesday night found me in possession of one of the "the hottest tickets in town," the Arcade Fire show at Webster Hall.
The evening started, not so strangely, with a return visit to Cubbyhole for a quick round of drinks with friends Hannah and Mike. Then I met with Gabby for a little macrobiotic dinner at Souen. Gabby has been my partner in indie pop/rock crime since the tender age of 15, so of course this was with whom I was going to see the Arcade Fire.
We rolled up to Webster Hall in time to meet my coworker Cindy, her pal Debbie, Gabby's boyfriend Adam, and her roommate Mark to get ready for the indie hipster infusion! Of course, this was at 8:30, which seemed just right in that not to early, not too late sort of timing. If only we'd been right. To kill time we had to chat up the merch tables for a while, admiring their silk-screened posters, glow in the dark t-shirts, and general D.I.Y. stylings. Then we were forced to wait through the steady stream of indie whitenss that descended upon the venue most often known as a destinationfor Ecstasy popping teen-aged suburbanites. The usual order of hooded sweashirts under winter jackets, plastic eyewear, and enough "vintage" clothing to make you consider buying stock in the Salvation Army was prevalent.
But wait...is that a band I see taking the stage? Oh, it's just Philly based Man Man, the first of two opening acts. Now one can argue that you should give them credit for the noise rock fusion art sound to which they're particularly commited. Unfortunately, I've got a fear of commitment, so I took up the opportunity to go outside and find an ATM.
After returning, and waiting out what seemed like three lifetimes and a day, the second opener started. This skinny blond guy carrying nothing but a violin gets on stage and tells us that he's Final Fantasy (real name Owen), he's really honored to be playing with the Arcade Fire, blah blah, and then proceeds to play a few songs. Cindy was actually quite taken in by him, practically volunteering to become young Owen's stage mom. Her first duty as stage mom would have been to let him know that his dress shirt under the red and white t-shirt (Canada's colors, and he hails from Toronto, coincidence?) was just a little bit too band camp for this hip NYC audience.
Finally, at about 11:30 the Arcade Fire took the stage. Now, jaded bewilderment demands you be skeptical of any band that's become quite so capital "I," capital "T" (that's "IT" for you dyslexics out there) as these Montrealers have become over the past few months. Thankfully, they do NOT disappoint. The hype is deserved.
So let's break down the routine of how IT bands make for disastrous audiences. The first few songs were just a warm-up, with the crowd mostly just yapping away and steadily ordering beers from the bar (incidentally Webster Hall has NOT worked out these indie rawk shows yet, do pass on the Courvoisier, indie fans drink beer, so it's best to have it well stocked). Three songs in, it was time for someone to break out the skunk weed.
This part of the night got a little hazy for me, as the scent of skunk weed had me reminiscing about family camping trips when I was young to places like the Smoky Mountains and Old Williamsburg, Va. I recoiled at the memory of driving over roadkill skunks and having the stench linger with you for a good 10 to 15 miles, accusing your brothers of having been the cause of the foul smell. Then I remembered that because I don't smoke pot, I'm particularly susceptible to second hand highs, so I had to pull myself together!
As the went along through their set the drunken frat boy wannabe hipsters were worked into a frenzy. Most inapropriate was a guy wearing his corduroy fisherman hat. You may know him as "where's the party? HERE'S the party!" guy. He comes in many shapes and sizes, but he's often drunk and insists on dancing, stumbling, and then heckling the band that he actually really likes. What a character!
They played till after 1am, I believe even coming back for a second encore. Unfortunately, I had to hightail it home so you'll have to ask someone else about that. All these week night plans, we have to rest some time, don't we?
The evening started, not so strangely, with a return visit to Cubbyhole for a quick round of drinks with friends Hannah and Mike. Then I met with Gabby for a little macrobiotic dinner at Souen. Gabby has been my partner in indie pop/rock crime since the tender age of 15, so of course this was with whom I was going to see the Arcade Fire.
We rolled up to Webster Hall in time to meet my coworker Cindy, her pal Debbie, Gabby's boyfriend Adam, and her roommate Mark to get ready for the indie hipster infusion! Of course, this was at 8:30, which seemed just right in that not to early, not too late sort of timing. If only we'd been right. To kill time we had to chat up the merch tables for a while, admiring their silk-screened posters, glow in the dark t-shirts, and general D.I.Y. stylings. Then we were forced to wait through the steady stream of indie whitenss that descended upon the venue most often known as a destinationfor Ecstasy popping teen-aged suburbanites. The usual order of hooded sweashirts under winter jackets, plastic eyewear, and enough "vintage" clothing to make you consider buying stock in the Salvation Army was prevalent.
But wait...is that a band I see taking the stage? Oh, it's just Philly based Man Man, the first of two opening acts. Now one can argue that you should give them credit for the noise rock fusion art sound to which they're particularly commited. Unfortunately, I've got a fear of commitment, so I took up the opportunity to go outside and find an ATM.
After returning, and waiting out what seemed like three lifetimes and a day, the second opener started. This skinny blond guy carrying nothing but a violin gets on stage and tells us that he's Final Fantasy (real name Owen), he's really honored to be playing with the Arcade Fire, blah blah, and then proceeds to play a few songs. Cindy was actually quite taken in by him, practically volunteering to become young Owen's stage mom. Her first duty as stage mom would have been to let him know that his dress shirt under the red and white t-shirt (Canada's colors, and he hails from Toronto, coincidence?) was just a little bit too band camp for this hip NYC audience.
Finally, at about 11:30 the Arcade Fire took the stage. Now, jaded bewilderment demands you be skeptical of any band that's become quite so capital "I," capital "T" (that's "IT" for you dyslexics out there) as these Montrealers have become over the past few months. Thankfully, they do NOT disappoint. The hype is deserved.
So let's break down the routine of how IT bands make for disastrous audiences. The first few songs were just a warm-up, with the crowd mostly just yapping away and steadily ordering beers from the bar (incidentally Webster Hall has NOT worked out these indie rawk shows yet, do pass on the Courvoisier, indie fans drink beer, so it's best to have it well stocked). Three songs in, it was time for someone to break out the skunk weed.
This part of the night got a little hazy for me, as the scent of skunk weed had me reminiscing about family camping trips when I was young to places like the Smoky Mountains and Old Williamsburg, Va. I recoiled at the memory of driving over roadkill skunks and having the stench linger with you for a good 10 to 15 miles, accusing your brothers of having been the cause of the foul smell. Then I remembered that because I don't smoke pot, I'm particularly susceptible to second hand highs, so I had to pull myself together!
As the went along through their set the drunken frat boy wannabe hipsters were worked into a frenzy. Most inapropriate was a guy wearing his corduroy fisherman hat. You may know him as "where's the party? HERE'S the party!" guy. He comes in many shapes and sizes, but he's often drunk and insists on dancing, stumbling, and then heckling the band that he actually really likes. What a character!
They played till after 1am, I believe even coming back for a second encore. Unfortunately, I had to hightail it home so you'll have to ask someone else about that. All these week night plans, we have to rest some time, don't we?
posted by Phil at
2:40 PM
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