"That guy looks exuberant!"

Okay, I heard a story on the radio about two girls who got their necks broken when a guy stage-dived onto them at a Clutch concert. Well, I hadn't heard of Clutch, so I looked them up. I listened to a bit of their music, and I suppose it qualifies as heavy metal, but of the Deep Purple variety. Anyway, I thought this article was kind of funny, in that the writer kept using phrases like "Joseph Seink says he never realized the gravity of his action when he exuberantly dove off the Scene Pavilion stage toward a mosh pit teeming with slam-dancing heavy-metal fans." Exuberantly. Heh. There's also some great stuff about one of the girls being "spooked" in a crowd, wondering who's going to jump on her.

But I bring it up because I have mixed feelings about this. Everybody agrees Seink wasn't trying to hurt anybody, moshing and stage diving are expected parts of mosh-pit culture, and the girls aren't permanently injured. Still, he did jump on them and break their necks, and they say they were "at the fringes" of the pit. Now I've written before (long ago, on an old, dead web site) about mosh pit etiquette, and how it's changed. But whatever it is, you have to be aware of it. For example, I've been in some pretty serious pits. I have definitely received a couple elbows to the brain, too. But when I was at the Crest theater (a beautiful art deco place downtown) seeing the Misfits, I got out of the pit. Why? Because during the opening act, the happy pop-punk Groovie Ghoulies, the pit got so ugly I was worried I wouldn't be able to get out, and as the Ghoulies left the stage, a number of gigantic biker-lookin' dudes in leather and spikes and boots started running down the stairs to join the already overflowing pit. I bailed. And I didn't get hurt that night, which made me happy. And if I had gotten hurt, I believe I would have only blamed myself (unless, of course, somebody intentionally tried to hurt me and succeeded). I think these two girls probably should have gotten the hell out of harm's way. Still, if you're at the edge, not expecting an almost-200 pound guy to jump onto your head, I can understand wanting some kind of justice.

On to a new topic. I finished painting (last step is taking down the tape) and I do believe I like it. As it dries it definitely loses its Oscar the Grouch quality and darkens to a jade, like I hoped. It's also even now, after three coats (it's matte, and there was a matte color underneath, so it soaked up a lot of paint). The painting iPod list went as follows: (backwards)
Unheard Music -- X
Is this Love -- Cake
Junkie Man -- Rancid
That Was Your Mother -- Paul Simon
Regret -- New Order
Cult of Personality -- Living Colour
Where do Broken Hearts Go -- Me First and the Gimme Gimmes
Chazerei -- Las Pesadillas
(Just Like) Starting Over -- John Lennon
I Ran (So Far Away) -- Flock of Seagulls
Summer in the City -- The Lovin' Spoonful
Smoke Two Joints -- Sublime
My Time -- Jane's Addiction
The Lighthouse (Featuring Siouxie Sioux) -- Hector Zazou
Posse in Effect -- Beastie Boys
Mannequin -- Wire
Orbis de Ignis -- Dead Can Dance
Calistan -- Frank Black
Something -- The Beatles
Doin' Time -- Sublime
Township Rebellion -- Rage Against the Machine
Sunday Morning Coming Down -- Johnny Cash
Roll Right -- Rage Against the Machine

And now for a hint of commentary on said playlist -- Sunday Morning is one of my favorite Johnny Cash songs. It's actually by Kris Kristofferson, but it's so evocative and sad.
As I listened to the Hector Zazou song (a great album, BTW, for slow melodic background noise), I was thinking about how I actually used to like, no REALLY LIKE, Siouxie. How, in fact, I even went to a concert of hers. And how once I even made somebody a lovey mix tape with a Siouxie song on it, and that even though I couldn't remember what song it was, there was a decent chance that it was lovey but also morbid -- then I remembered it was "The Last Beat of My Heart."
I love Jane's Addiction. My Time isn't even up high on my list of their best songs, but I am happy to hear almost any song of theirs.
Sublime -- So, I'm not afraid to admit that I like Sublime. Not "liked them back in the day." Like them still. And you know what? Screw you guys. All you cool people who won't admit you liked Everclear and the Spin Doctors. I like them! I don't care who knows it. I still like Sublime!
Starting Over -- Man, I like the Beatles, and I even like some John Lennon by himself, but not this one. Why do I have this? It sounds like Seymour could sing it in Little Shop of Horrors. Now "Imagine," "Instant Karma," in fact most of the "Shaved Fish" album . . . bring it on. But this one blows.
Las Pesadillas -- Yo Zoom, the reason you don't know this band (I'm assuming they're in that third) is that they're local to Sacramento. But they rule. They sound a little like a band that would show up at your Bar Mitzvah, a little like Primus, and a little like some spooky Appalachian storytelling banjo player. I usually describe them as Primus' "Wynonna's Big Brown Beaver" period. I really enjoy their CDs and they put on a great show as well.
"Where Do Broken Hearts Go" -- definitely a better version than the original.
Regret by New Order -- I don't know whether I'm ashamed or relieved that I had to look at the iPod screen to see who and what this was. It was naggingly familiar, but I didn't know either the band or the title. New Wave is slipping into a distant memory.

That's about it for tonight. Take care,
CM