We had a show last night with Kymera -- I really liked them, they were "funk rock reggae" and I'm probably one of the few people show actually does like all three genres. They were also all INCREDIBLY TALENTED. Most of the songwriting was good, too. Only one complaint, really, and that was the Phish-like nature of some of the 20 minute rock opuses. Like, there was one song that I swear the guy was singing "how many times?!" with real feeling when we started a conversation, one of us got up for a drink, we made some fun of the sexy dancers*, I went to the bathroom, we had a long conversation . . . and he ws still singing it like half an hour later. I kept thinking maybe they had transitioned into a new song, but then no, he'd start singing the same lyrics again.
On the other hand, EEE ELLL Eightyfour (I'm spelling it funky in case they Google themselves) was terrible. They probably would have rocked the socks off of 1987, but it sounded really dated and, well, masturbatory. In fact, I coined a new phrase last night -- "drumsterbation." Basically where you're just fiddling around on the drums to please yourself, but it doesn't do anything for anyone else. You could be quite good at it, but it's a little embarassing to take public . . . Plus, the guitarist took off his shirt after, like, one song, and was skinny and hairy with a baseball-hat mullet and TOTALLY believed he was Steve Vai.
*Sexy dancers; first of all, I'd likek to point out that there is was a woman there who caused monkeygirl to say "Oh look, the New Jersey contingent has arrived." She had big Peggy Bundy hair, leopard print halter top and tight leopard print pants. Then there was the woman who was actually pretty well-preserved and dressed, if not tastefully, then at least not hideously. She and her man had had just a few too many drinks to dance and maintain their dignity, so they chose dancing over dignity and went ALL-OUT. Yeah, she was shakin' it, grindin' it, hands in the air, "come hither" hand gestures . . . his idea of dancing was basically to have a seizure and walk in circles at the same time. For good measure he reached out and grabbed at her every once in a while. Oh. My. God.
There was also crazy all-denim-all-the-time drunk guy, who, if he had been in all black and about 40 years younger would have definitely been described as gothic dancing. There was a lot of posturing, striding, arm-waving. He LOVED us, dude.
I had a good time, and it was a nice stage and great sound system. I decided to pull out all the performance stops (which for me basically means humping gynagirl's leg and crawling around on the floor.
The house -- we're taking a break on the floor because some of the flooring was defective and we need to get it replaced, which has been delayed somewhat. Instead, I'm starting the kitchen/dining room project. First is the walls (yellow), then the cabinets (white). I already painted the fridge (it was beige, and now it's white to match all the other appliances). Then I'm trying to get the washer/dryer hookups moved into the garage. Then the floor (laminate again, I think). Also, I'm taking this fussy moulding down and painting the inside of the cabinets, as well as putting new contact paper down. And I'm going to ask my dad if he can help me build a hidey-hole for the garbage and recycling.
I saw local demi-celebrity Francois Fly (or perhaps it was Keith Lowell Jensen -- sometimes I get them confused) get out of a car while I was waiting to get gas the other day, walk across the street with another guy with a camera, and talk at length to a woman with a "Homeless, please help" sign at the corner of 16th and W, where the freeway offramp is. I'm curious as to what the project is.
It's hot. I'm finally getting air conditioning, but not until the end of this week. Sigh.
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