Monday, January 5, 2009
Actually, I take that back. This wasn't my idea; this was my band mates trying way too fucking hard to make me into a hipster (or at least not so much of an embarrassment). I was basically just bowing to the peer pressure they were putting on me.
You see, they'd been patient beyond patient with my crappy fascination with bad metal, and my new love for Type O Negative had become the final straw. Trying to appeal for my love of baritone voices, sludgy tempos and scary music, they'd begun trying to convince me to look into more socially acceptable bands of this ilk, such as the Sisters of Mercy, the Melvins and the Swans.
(By the way, is it "Swans" or "The Swans"? I am going to refer to them as "The Swans" for the time being, and you fancy pants record collectors can go about correcting me as you see fit).
I'd be remiss not to point out that this dragging-me-to-concerts-for-my-own-good thing tended to be a thorough failure of a strategy over the next few years, no matter how many times I capitulated to attending shows by the likes of P.J. Harvey and the Jesus & Mary Chain and (God help me) Nivek Ogre.
Truth be told, I don't remember a hell of a lot about the Swans. This *might* have been my first show at the new 9:30 Club (I just can't figure that out for sure, and it's making me crazy).
We got there early enough that the place was damned near empty.
The opening act did a semi-acoustic thing that bored the crap out of the few of us who were there. We took them in from the balcony bar, and damned if I didn't spot this totally cute hipsterish African-American girl who was sporting these kind of wild quarter-dreds, coupled with a hideous retro-Bill-Cosby sweater. I eyed her once or twice, then kept going back to the show, back to my friends, back to the bar, etc. Then towards the end of this abysmally long opening set, I glanced over at her, and -- no shit -- her head was down on the bar, and she was fast asleep.
She wasn't drunk or anything, she was just bored out of her mind.
As was I.
Now, it's not like the Swans were bad; the club eventually filled up, and their thing was pretty dark and creepy, all right. All things considered, my band mates did well by me. I guess.
But I never bothered to consider buying on of their records at any point in the future. Didn't even think of it once.
Meanwhile, I would continue to give the degenerates in Type O Negative my money for years to come, no matter how bad their albums started getting.