October 10th, 2005

amused, silly, ha ha only serious

Status report

Recently: Library.

I've been going to the library for the last few days. This is a totally new pattern for me; I'd only been there a few times, with my parents, before last week. I like it a lot. It's quiet, away from home, doesn't pressure you into buying frappucinos, and has free WiFi—in other words, a great place to sit and hack. Too bad it closes at five, though.

Tonight: Franz Ferdinand concert.

Franz Ferdinand has never been one of my favorite bands. They're played on the station I usually listen to (KROQ); I like their music and some of the technical tricks they pull (they're very good at mixing two or three "sub-songs" into a cohesive whole), but their lyrics are usually very simplistic, so they've never captured me the way bands like The Killers, Interpol, and Barenaked Ladies have. My father, however, listens to the same station I do and likes a lot of the same stuff (I ripped his Killers CD, and he accidentally bought the Interpol album I'd already bought on iTunes), but he also likes Franz. So he bought three tickets to their concert in San Diego. Somehow my brother and I ended up going with him. (My brother doesn't listen to any of this stuff—he's into "progressive metal", mostly.)

So, the three of us got into my car (Dad's convertible isn't very comfortable for three) and drove an hour and a half to the concert. We got there about 7:40; the show started at 8. There were two opening bands, neither of which was very good. The first was very electronic and in my opinion over-reliant on recorded music; the second didn't seem to understand that the music isn't just background noise behind the lead singer's voice. (I blame their failure on the fact that the lead singer didn't play an instrument.)

So then the band came on. The crowd erupted in cheers; everyone stood up; the band started playing and everyone danced. It was amazing. They just kept playing, one perfect song after another, and totally captured the crowd. Everybody was singing along—I guess the simple lyrics were an advantage. They finished up, waited an incredibly long time to do the encore, then finally came out and did six more songs. At one point there were three guys playing the drums—one seated behind them, one standing in front, and one standing to the drummer's right. The lights and smoke were just right, and the stage's setup (including a rotating four-panel thingy behind the band with images derived from their cover art) was well-suited to them.

By the end I'd had probably the most strenuous workout since I quit hockey, but I was grinning. It was a great show. I recommend it to anyone who even sort-of likes their music—although you should probably grab an album or two of theirs and listen to them beforehand so that you'll know the songs.

Tomorrow: a funeral and a baseball game.

The funeral is for a relative who apparently had an unexpected heart attack; he was a notorious ticket scalper, and supposedly held the INTERPOL record for most arrests worldwide (I believe 350 as of a couple years ago, with one conviction—on the first arrest). The baseball game is Game 5 (of 5) of the Angels' series against the Yankees, and will decide who reaches the next round of the playoffs. Ought to be exciting.

The day after: Money.

I'm supposed to get my check from Google. Also ought to be exciting. (They're shipping the t-shirt separately, though.)

Now: Sleep.

I have to be up in four hours. Good night.
  • Current Music
    a slight hollow sound from being blasted with noise