Seattle Concert Scheduling is teh Stoopid

I just acquired the most recent Cut Copy album, In Ghost Colours. It's pretty rockin'. I'd never really heard them before and I can't remember if this is a result of me scoffing at a recommendation like a tool, or just happenstance. I hope its the latter, I fucking hate realizing I've been a tool.

In Ghost Colours is a great album. I'd throw down a review, but really, pitchfork said it pretty well in the review linked above. Its a happy, fun album of technopop and you should go track it down.

As I was about halfway through my first listen last night, I vaguely recalled seeing Cut Copy on a concert calendar, and went to Neumos' website to see if I'd already missed it. Sweet! I'd not. Shit! Its on a Wednesday.

Now, as a 9-5'er, this presents a dilemma: is the show going to be worth another zombified day at work? I've been to a number of weeknight shows lately and they've been pretty universally awesome. The Shackletons, British Sea Power, and The Super Furry Animals at Neumos, and Le Loup and the Ruby Suns at Chop Suey have all be excellent weeknight shows in the past month or two. But the next day I am, without fail, a solid wreck. It seems like I should be able to handle getting 4 or 5 hours of sleep after a night of drinking and rocking out to awesome music without any problem, right? Despite the clear intuitiveness of that situation, quite the opposite is the reality.

So, concert promoters and bands I like, What The Fuck is the deal with all the weeknight concerts? I realize that based on travel times and other scheduled shows and the various other logistical facets of planning a tour, some shows will have to be on weeknights. I get it. Seattle isn't New York or L.A.. Fine.

But at the same time, Fuck That. At one of the above-mentioned shows, a friend and I found ourselves chatting with the drummer afterwards. He was full of praise for Seattle, how they always had their most solid, best-attended shows here. How KEXP was the greatest radio station in the country. That's all well and good, sir, but then why the fuck are we having this conversation at 1:30 am Wednesday morning? I know its not his personal responsibility, and he was a sick drummer, and they put on a ridiculously good show, and all the rest, but I still cant shake the feeling that it somehow shouldn't be the case that seeing a good small show in Seattle necessarily comes at the expense of my ability to function at work the next day.

That Guy #2: That guy who wears cologne to the gym

For the second installment of my Salute to That Guy, I'd like to talk about a new That Guy of my acquaintance, That Guy Who Wears Cologne to the Gym.

You may have noticed That Guy before. First, there's a mysterious shift in the usual gym smells of sweaty bodies, laundry, and cleaning products. A little time passes and it waxes, beginning to drown all else out. You look around, wondering who would do such a thing. Then you see him: That Guy Who Wears Cologne to the Gym.

He's probably a good looking guy. That Guy, whatever his other flaws, takes care of himself. Apart from obviously spending a lot of time in the gym, That Guy has a tastefully adventurous haircut, possibly with meticulously maintained facial hair. Nothing skeezy like a 70's mustache for That Guy, a soul-patch or a 5-day stubble that's been shaved around for perfect symmetry is more That Guy's style.

That Guy will also be dressed very nicely... almost too nicely. His shirt matches the trim on his shorts, which matches the trim on his shoes. Any pattern on his shirt will, of course, match the main color of his shorts. That Guy plans his gym wardrobe as meticulously as he shaves around his stubble. Very meticulously.

The best part about That Guy is that he usually appears not to be working out. At the very most, That Guy will take a brisk walk on the elliptical machine for a few minutes, but not long enough to really get the heat up. He's wearing cologne, after all, once you start wiping sweat off your face, its just gonna go straight in your eyes and sting like a bitch. That Guy knows this all too well, so a lot of stretching is usually what he'll be doing. Maybe some light weights, you know... for toning.

I have had the misfortune to start working out at the same time as That Guy recently, and worse we seem to prefer the same area in the locker room. Every Fucking Day before heading out, 5 FULL FUCKING SPRAYS with the cologne. He looks like if Samir from Office Space had a Queer Eye makeover. What really worries me is that simply by being in the same room, I'm picking some of the stench up, and that then people think I'm That Guy. And it kills me inside a little everyday.

Addendum: I would assume that there is a corresponding That Girl, probably That Girl Who Wears the $400 Workout Outfit to Walk on the Treadmill. Apart from being even less well-worded, I just dont care about That Girl. I'm a straight dude, and I will more than likely never say anything resembling "man, I wish that hot chick would stop wearing tight, perfectly tailored clothes while working out next to me." Of course, though I'll not complain, I'm not gonna oggle, either. I'm not That Guy Who Leers at Ladies at the Gym. Nobody wants to be That Guy.

Tags: rants, sarcasm, That Guy

The Omega Man Has Fallen

For a few weeks now, some friends and I have been wanting to make our way through some of the more excellent offerings of 70's sci-fi films. Our plan to watch The Omega Man this evening seemed all the more appropriate given the news this morning of Charlton Heston's death.

For those unaware, Omega Man was the second film adaptation of Richard Matheson's 1954 novel, I am Legend. I saw the adaptation by the same name with Will Smith last year, and though it was no Children of Men, the portrayal of the emotional impact of the apocalypse was similarly impressive.

I was not exactly expecting a similar experience from Omega Man. Charlton Heston did not really do emotional depth so much as he did varying degrees of a squarely set jaw combined with a somewhat blase misogyny. The Omega Man was a perfect vessel for this. Where Will Smith's Robert Nevile was a dedicated scientist and all around badass, Heston sortof loped around town with a swagger, seemingly less concerned with restoring the human race or avoiding the mildly vampiric 'survivors' sharing the city with him than with taking a drive and looking awesome. And awesome he certainly did look.

In a way, I hope that this is the legacy Heston is remembered for, being the awesome leading man from 70's sci-fi classics. I would certainly rather remember the man in the unbelievably excellent neckerchief in Soylent Green than the head of the NRA, the 'pry it from my cold, dead hands,' line or the elderly gentleman being harassed by Michael Moore.

Tags: movies