You know when you’re singing the lyrics to a song while you’re watching a band perform, and your eyes meet with a band member’s, but you forget the next few lines, so you just kind of look down? ‘Cause it’s awkward just to stop singing lyrics. Unless you boldly mumble some nonsensical bullshit while you’re staring some band member dead in their face. They know!
So today, I was aware of a Los Campesinos! concert in SF, but dismissed it because I’m broke. Miraculously, I got a message from my friend, Ezra, asking me if I like them because he has a spare ticket that he can give me for free. When I read this, I had like eight boners emerging out of different parts of my body. I’d seen them in April of ‘09 and May of ‘10, so it’s amazing I haven’t forgot about these guys. Damn near two years. You dicks only hit up the Northeast in ‘11. That’s why I didn’t write you a Christmas letter that year. Off the bat, the first band is ridiculous. Fucking goofy, the lot of them. First song’s pretty nice. Standard intro song with no drums and a bit ambient. The drummer looks like goddamn Art Garfunkel or a Blake / Ders Workaholics hybrid, who’s 7 feet tall. The lead singer’s also really funny. Like, he’s got jokes, but he’s also a really goofy gay dude. There was a moment where the lead singer comes into the audience and when he was really far into the audience I felt the mic cord hit me in neck and I ducked under it with the quickness. I only thought of that scene from that shitty movie, Ghost Ship, where everyone’s head gets taken off by some wire. So on to LC! My main goal, aside from enjoying myself and having a grand time, was somehow boning Ellen Campesinos! The two times prior were unsuccessful. I devised a brilliant plan to stare the shit out of her the whole performance. It’s unfortunate she wasn’t at the merch table. She says that saying, “You look nice,” works just fine. I read it. Pitchfork, okay? Yo, this girl never looks up from her bass. She’d look up once in a while, our eyes would meet, then she’d look away wit’ da quickness. This would happen once in a…OFTEN. Girl was probably thinkin’, “Dude won’t stop lookin’ at me. Fuck off me, this my bus stop.” Or, “ZOMG, like, total babe at unf o’clock.” But all of a sudden, a wild Kim Campesinos! appeared. And I shit you not, girl was staring me down hard. Girl rockin’ her floral shirt tucked in the short shorts and stockings: standard indie fit. Girl’s eyes like laser beams into my soul. Mind you, this is when we’re like 20 feet away. So during one of the songs I know all the lyrics to, in the upbeat dance flurry, I dance/muscle my way to damn-near the front. Now, I had never noticed Kim before, but girl was looking good, SUDDENLY. So now I’m up there, 5 or so feet away, and it’s more intimate/awkward. Also, this girl and her brother get way into the performance, with the tears and sadness. Girl had tears in her eyes for half the set. Gareth and Kim are brother and sister. Explained. But back to me: mad looks. Girl would be looking me dead for long periods of time. They play the last song, leave, my buddy and me are there maybe 10 minutes longer, gotta go ‘cause BART’s last train’s in like 25 minutes. Oh well. But I guess if I’d stayed like 15 minutes after 12, 10 minutes before the last train, I could’ve met the band and whatnot and done some infiltrating. Should’ve stayed and hit up someone I know who goes to SF State, but that shit’s far. Los Camps! never hangs around in the city either, they go straight to LA, the dicks. Real Estate hung out at a bar after. Learn from the best. Also, concerts are the best. I feel I only let loose, like really let loose (in the company of others), at concerts and when I’m with friends and just doing weird stuff. It’s a great feeling when you’re just in a crowd of people and don’t give a shit about how you look or what you do and it’s just fun, but accompanied by the twee glockenspiel stylings of Los Camps!
Too Long Didn’t Read: Operation Whore Self Out to Musicians was unsuccessful.
Fuck, I should attempt to stay at someone’s house in SF as a backup plan every time. Shit.
Lastly, Asian girls are super fans. The whole front row was Asian girls and when the weight of the crowd would shift forward, I’d feel bad, ‘cause I’d be crushing chicks in front of me. Everyone seems so fragile. No better way to feel strong than being able to balance and not topple over as all these small people are getting pushed all over the place by the waves of the crowd. Poor people getting crushed.