grotesque velveteen swagger

He he he.

Went to see some Vaclav Havel plays at a little black box on 42nd, not a normal thing for me, and heard Devola, this super-young prog-metal troupe with a very, very serious female lead singer who channelled PJ through the Creed dude, which was weird and funny. Their kit had a sticker that said emo sucks, which is like the "skateboarding is not a crime" or "punk's not dead" of the early aughts. The Audience, The Unveiling, Protest. Great as a trilogy, the last is autobigraphically about the writing of Charter 77 in support of The Plastic People of the Universe (hey, one of those people ain't no plastic!). So the band thing. worked.

Then, he he he. Saw Something for Rockets at the Tribeca Grand. some people say things like this of the music:

"this grotesque velveteen swagger and the droll God-I-wish-this-were-ironic stupidity of his lyrics"

But 'he' is my friend's friend, and they are BIG supporters of USE, even filmed them for a SXSW MTV report, so I could not talk too much trash. Still, it did have this made-in-LA, post-Lynchian horror feel to it. Cohorts affirmed the nostalgic d n'b feel of several songs, reminding me of Lamb, but less frentic or chopped, more crazy clown crooning and laptoppy blah blah.

Then went dancing with the kids at Dave P's DJ thing - good times, tho the weird, no lights (not even par cans, no moving fixtures, totally just *dark*) is annoying. Is it just me, or is lighting a hot, crowded basement bar with votives a recipe for disaster?