Health/Dan Deacon/Aa/Black Pus/Knyfe Hyts/Crime Novels @ Market Hotel (Harket Motel? Why? Why does ohmyrockness.com have it listed as Harket Motel? I don't understand; is this some new thing they're trying to do? Is it pretaining to legality? WTFTW, M(H)arket H(M)otel. Wtf.) I have several things to say about this show, none of which will be drawn out or elaborate because, yes friends, I'm 19 years old and I have a goddamn paper to write. For school. The beaureaucracy wins again. This is in list form, to keep things concise and simple.
1. Dan Deacon, you are an asshole. You think you're so fucking great and awesome and talented with your stupid machines and red glasses. You're not. You're just a fat man who pushes buttons. You create fun, not music. And yes, you bastard, I had fun. As much as I hate to admit it, I had A LOT of fun during your set. But, sir, you are, in plainest english, a DOUCHE. BAG. People warned me, too. But I refused to listen. I said, "No, I'm sure he's not. I'm sure he's a fine fellow. I'm sure he's great. Probably a really nice guy and all."
But they were right, Dan Deacon, they were all right. You are an asshole. All you did during your set was complain about the people who were so excited to see you. All you kept saying was how you had to do this, or how it was so hot, or how we were suffocating you, et cetera and so on. Because you're not making any money from playing that show, right? You're not selling any merch, right? Right, Dan Deacon? That's what I thought. All I have to say is one thing to you: go to hell. Take your stupid red glasses with you. You fucking fat waste. You weren't even the headliner.
2. Health and Black Pus are officially the greatest things to happen to the Brooklyn music scene. Even if Health is from LA. Whatever, we'll adopt you. They played the best sets I've heard in a long, long time (except for the These Are Powers set at Silent Barn, but that's a whole other can of worms. Good worms, not bad. Glow worms). Everyone should check out their myspaces. I mean it.
3. There was a strange, older man at the show who I helped direct home on the J train. He took fabulous pictures and for some reason, I really want to know his life story. I think I shall stalk his myspace now.
4. To the kid in the Red Sox shirt who tried to stick his hand down my pants (and molested one of my biffles during the Health set), I hope you get caught in a seven alarm fire and your face is melted off by toxic chemicals. And then you turn into the joker. And then I turn into Batman and kill you.
NO. Really. I don't have a paper to do. Nope. Lies, falsity, illusion.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
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