Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Girls Can Tell

Last night was about the rock. The indie rock. This means I am at work trying, really really trying, to stay awake.

We saw Spoon at the Avalon, to a sold out crowd (I was later told that this was approximately 1500 people). I was also told by the absolute Spoon fanatic that I went with (a passion for a band that rivals my own for the Pixies and Throwing Muses)that the show was very Girls Can Tell heavy. Isn't that the greatest album title? As my friend also said, Elvis Costello is kicking himself repeatedly for not having come up with that one.

I can tell you which songs I liked that I knew... "I Turn My Camera On," "The Way We Get By," "Chicago At Night," "Metal School," "Fitted Shirt," and, um... "Everything Hits At Once." They sounded great - my friend and I had found a spot over the stage on a balcony that no one seemed to be standing on but us, which made everything sound even better.

After the show we went backstage for a while, which is this teeny tiny little space, and we stole little bits of the bands' rider. I like that they had water, beer, and Swedish fish readily available. Actually, there was an awful lot of candy backstage - which I appreciate and wholeheartedly support. The Spider Club was taking place upstairs (this is a notorious Hollywood starlet hang - you can't turn a corner without bumping into anorexic teens currently splashed all over tabloids) and we all wanted to get out of Dodge.

The band went to check out Cinespace, a nightspot lousy with hipsters on Tuesday nights. After about three seconds, drummer Jim Eno said, "Okay, my head is going to explode. Where are we going now?" Daddy's was suggested, a low key swanky joint a couple blocks over, which appropriately has Cary Grant's star right out front. We blew time there till they closed, and then the band had to get back on the bus and go to Tucson. "We'll be home in four days!" Jim kept saying during the evening.

Good show, good guys, good times. And now I'm REALLY tired.