Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Monday night rocktacular


Oh, Internets, so tired today — out late last night — and yet so happy and satisfied — cause what I was out late at was: SLOOOOOO-OOOOOAAN!

Hot DAMN, do I love this band. It’s the third time I’ve seen them, and this show — at the Independent — may well have been the best (the other two were at Slim’s, my other favorite venue for live music in SF). They have so much fun onstage, and they won’t let even the most dead-assed SF crowd just stand there — there’s going to be high leg-kicks, fuckin’ around, windmilling, and if all else fails, Chris Murphy will call you out personally. My drummer friend, the Living Lebowski, came along with Mr. Gleemonex and I, and he had a kickass time without even really knowing their music beforehand. He loved it that the band members occasionally switch instruments, trade out lead vocals, and rock so hard — they’re tight, even though they’re loose enough to roll with the mood.

Post-show, I hung the
famous Gleemonex rack over the edge of the stage and got a roadie to hand me one of the setlists — rawk!

And but THEN! While standing in line to buy a Sloan belt buckle (for my guitar strap), I spied yon Mr. Murphy walk out into the milling leftover crowd at the edge of the stage. I was like, fuck this line, and ran over there. I shook his hand, noticed that he has dreamy eyes and is maybe a couple inches taller than my 5’5”, and said “Oh man, I LOVE your bassin!” He said thanks, and I added “I’m a bassist too!” (without qualifying it with what a noob I am at the sport). He asked me what I played, I said “A Fender J-bass,” and he goes, “Whoa, that’s a big one!” appreciatively. I said “Yeah, I can barely handle it, but I like the sound — anyway, helluva show — thanks, man!” And then I got him to sign the setlist and my ticket and got out of his way. He was SO nice, and so tolerant of my fangirl blithering. Squeeee!

A little bit later, while I was back in the merch line, he and the Living Lebowski had a chat about Rush (both are fans, oh my), which was hilarious (Mr. Gleemonex stood a few feet away from that, trying to hold in his laughter so he could overhear what they were saying, which is how I know this).

So anyway!

If you’ve never heard the power-poppy, Beatles-y music of Nova Scotia’s Finest, I recommend you start with either One Chord to Another (1996), Pretty Together (2002), Between the Bridges (1999), or Navy Blues (1998), and sort of work your way backwards and forwards. For my money, Action Pact (2004) is the weakest, but to each his or her own — I know there’s something in there for everyone to love!


And if Sloan’s coming to your town, you should totally go.

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