Friday, February 22, 2008

Fists of fury

Last night I headed up to Kings Cross to enjoy a Christmas present that my big bro got for me. But wait, you dirty-minded perverts - it had nothing to do with what immediately springs to mind when someone utters the words 'Kings Cross'; no, it was, in fact, a rather wonderful Nada Surf concert at the Scala.

I won't go on too much about the band, because it's not been that long since I harped on about them before; suffice to say that me and my cohorts (the aforementioned big bro and Yaz) had a wonderful time, and Nada Surf's new album, Lucky, which I picked up at the merchandise stand and have listened to constantly since, is awesome.

What I will go on about, though, is people's elbows, and some serious spatial awareness issues.
Basically, we managed to get pretty close to the stage, but as usually happens in this instance, an incredibly tall dude ended up right by us. An incredibly tall, bony-elbowed drunk dude, who kept jabbing me in the right tit while the support act, Rogue Wave (also very good), played. And if it wasn't his bony elbow, it was his freaky bony hip swaying into my abs.

And to rub insult into injury, after Rogue Wave finished and his drunken girlfriend staggered off to find a plant pot to pee behind, drunk dude decided he'd try to talk to us. While trying to deflect said dude's conversational advances, Yaz jokingly - and gently - poked me. I laughed. But then drunk dude thought he'd have a go. 

Yes, you read that right, but let's say it again for emphasis: drunk dude thought he'd have a go.
And he poked me. And not only did he poke me, but he poked me right where I'd stashed the Nada Surf album I'd just bought. He poked me in my Lucky.

Now, I'm a peace-loving chap, and even I'm a little surprised by what I did next: I gritted my teeth and raised my fist in a threatening manner.

Drunk dude did not bother me again all evening.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for another drunkard, who seemed insistant on trying to make me his new best friend, despite the fact that he was attending the gig with his two best friends (who, annoyingly, he insisted on chatting to quite loudly, quite a lot). On one occasion, during the song 'Imaginary Friends,' he put his arm across my shoulder and tried to get me to take part in an impromptu chorus line with him and one of his pals. I glared at him until he removed it, which happened, I kid you not, pretty damn quickly.

Near the end of the gig he tried to befriend me once again by inviting me to high-five him. I responded once again with a glare of epic proportions that I would have maintained until he either a) left me alone, or b) was vapourised. Fortunately for him he chose the former and quickly left me alone.

Fortunately, these little … interruptions did not spoil the gig. Good times!

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I didn't take many pics, but here's a couple:

From left: Ira on drums, Daniel (rocking his awesome dreads) on bass, and Matthew on guitar and singing.

At the end of the gig, the band invited anyone who wanted to get up on stage to, um, get up on stage. I kid you not - that there is the stage from the same angle as the previous pic.

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And because I didn't take any video clips, here's Rogue Waves' video for their song 'Publish my Love.' The drummer apparently had a kidney transplant recently-ish. Notice how he also looks like Earl Hickey from My Name is Earl*.



And here's Nada Surf's song 'Blankest Year.' Careful kids - it has naughty words in it!




*I'm not sure if this is a side-effect of said kidney transplant.

16 comments:

Miss Smuggersham said...

First bitches!

Miss Smuggersham said...

And now for a more sensible comment in bullet points:

* The concert looked awesome
* I'm a little bit afraid of you now, that glare sounds horrible
* I have a mental picture of a pale english man with a monocle, cravatt and dead parrot raising his fists for a right good cuffing.
* The above mental image is not exactly threatening.

Dinah said...

Whooooo, you're a concert badass! And thanks for the Kings Cross link...it more fully completes the image.

Tara said...

Oh my! The raised fist and the "if looks-could-kill" expressions...I'd say you had a busy night! Can I use you as a bodyguard against my manager who likes to rub shoulders without asking? Course that would mean you'd have to fly over here to America and of course I'd pay you for your bodyguard services and your sunglasses, but still.. ;)

Inexplicable DeVice said...

Or, you could stay in England and be *my* bodyguard for shopping trips, going to parties (not very many), walking to work, going swimming (why do people have to swim so close?!) and the like.

I don't go to gigs for precisely the reasons that made you get your gander up. Although, I might just start going again now, if you'll be there to deflect wayward elbows and do some neck punching.

CyberPete said...

Yes what is it with drunk guys at concerts?

I went to a concert about 3 weeks ago with friends and we also ended up quite close to the stage. We were battered, bruised and our feet were crushed by the time it was over.

Best thing, I was staring at the lead singer all through the gig not singing along because I didn't know any of the songs. It was mean but I really intended to make him forget the words or lose concentration. Fortunately for him, he didn't.

skillz said...

I love Scala, one of the best venues for seeing bands that aren't too rocky. I saw Jimmy Eat World at Brixton on Monday and got a dodgy knock-off tee outside. It had black and red stripes like Dennis the Menace, logo on the front and tour dates on the back. Which were all wrong.

Tim said...

T-Bird - I love it when you swoop in with such bravado!

T-Bird (the second) - I shall respond with bullet points!

• It totally was.
• Don't be - I'm as cuddly as Mr Snuffaluffagus in the middle of winter.
• That's quite an image!
• It's not, but what it is is dapper. And dapper is good.

Dinah - I'm a total badass. But a cuddly one!

Tara - I don't know if I can call on my badass powers all the time, but if I'm ever in the States and there's some manager hasslin' that needs a-doing, I'll see what I can do.

Inexplicable Device - Can't you defend yourself from little girls learning to swim? Are you worried they'll pop your armbands?

Cyberpete - But it would've been hilarious if he had forgotten the words. That's something to strive for, and I insist you keep at it!

Skillz - It is indeed a top venue. Don't worry too much about the stripes, logo, and tour dates on your t-shirt - one wash and I'm sure they'll just disappear.

CyberPete said...

I will try - it's quite funny after a while

Although when Kylie comes to town I'll be singing along at the top of my lungs

and dancing like there is no tomorrow

Tim said...

Who knows, that might also work!

CyberPete said...

With my singing talents I'm sure she'll be gobsmacked

She did stop in the middle of I believe in you last time I saw her live

she claimed it was because she was reading a banner. Hmmm

Tim said...

More like she realised everyone could see up her hotpants!

CyberPete said...

She wasn't wearing hotpants, she was wearing a beautiful red dress all the way to the floor.

Not a chance in hell you'd see up there at that point. - not that I tried looking up there. I was busy waving at her like a mentally retarded 6 year old spotting a pedophile handing out candy

Tim said...

Damn! She's such a tease! Did she wave back? If not you should've peed in a bottle and hoofed it on stage - that would've got her attention.

CyberPete said...

Well she waved in my direction a couple of times but there were wee kids waving at her in front of me so I think she was humouring them, not me.

Although in my head she was waving just for me.

Like back in 2000 when she kept eye contact with me through her entire show. I was on second row back then - awesome!

Miss Smuggersham said...

I am completely envious of Kylie's pert bottom. That's one of my training goals. That was too much information but I am keeping with the bravado theme.

Mr Snuffy! I want to say something about his trunk and snozzling, but can't quite bring myself to double entendre a childhood icon.