Review: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in San Francisco

The night before last I went to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds live in concert at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium in San Francisco.  Holy shit, that man performs like he’s much younger than he is.  I’m not the most experienced concert-goer–that distinction belongs to my distinguished colleague and co-writer, a seasoned veteran of a number of momentous concerts, including Rick Ro$$, Birdman, and Drake–but I went to a music festival one time, and those performances didn’t have shit on Nick Cave.  At 55, he energetically spidered around stage with alacrity.  His style of movement while performing is difficult to describe, but I will endeavor to do so:  imagine a really angry flamingo and a particularly mobile crab were to cross-bread, give the resultant offspring a voice weighted down with gravelly bass and moves like Jagger, and you have a poor verbal account of Nick Cave.  An undeniably gifted song-writer whose talents have not only served his own music but also movies like The Proposition and Lawless, Cave is also a (surprise) talented musician and an entertaining performer.  He transitioned between vocals and piano seamlessly.  On an unrelated, but thoroughly amusing note, dude spits everywhere on stage like he’s coughing up a lung.

Sharon von Etton quietly opened for Cave.  She was accompanied by an incredibly passionate drummer.  Several dedicated minutes of Google perusal have failed to yield his name, sadly (it was similarly difficult to uncover the identity of the children’s choir that performed with Cave and the Bad Seeds).  If any hero from the internet is bored and curious enough, you should totally find out if he has his own act.  No, not a four-piece band of which he is the spiritual leader, but a one-man drum show.  Put this guy in front of a stripped down drum-kit and imagine that each drum hit has a falcon punch level of windup that finally connects as though intended to melt into the head of the drum.  A virtuoso, if there ever was one.  I shed a tear.  For her part, Ms. von Etton was wonderfully competent.  As the above-linked wikipedia article reveals, other reviewers have described her sound and message with a sufficiently tiresome string of paradoxical equivocations.  She told the audience that she’d written one very sad, slow song about moving back into her parents house (the one before was about moving to New York) in her early twenties.  As someone faced with the same grim prospect, but not weighed down with any muse to speak of, I’m impressed at the level of emotion she was able to muster in response to these earth-shaking upheavals in her life.

But to return to the man of the hour, Cave is a monster.  I will admit, I did not exactly volunteer to come to his concert.  Both of my siblings (the oldest, in particular) are diehard fans.  Cave’s music accompanied my brother through the straits of adolescence, and he was, to say the least, thrilled to go.  I’ve listened to most of Cave’s music as a result, and when I was younger it scared the shit out of me.  It’s strong stuff, and Cave’s delivery of it was great.  He interacted with the crowd throughout the concert, slapping palms and even tearing apart a bouquet of roses that some enterprising concert-goer thought to give him.  The Bad Seeds matched Cave’s intensity.  The guy (too lazy to wikipedia that shit) conducting the violins looked like he was saber-fighting an imaginary lion, and the gentleman on the fiddle had his whirling dervish game on point.  Conclusion: Nick Cave is a beast and the Bad Seeds will rock your socks off.  Go buy their shit.  They’re mostly Australian and Cave himself lives in London with his model wife (to whom he penned one of the songs he performed last night).  Hell, go to Australia and see him live if you can, but be careful.  As the rest of the internet has repeatedly pointed out, Australia is a scary fucking place that will, in all likelihood, kill you if you stay there long enough.

I only have two more points to make before I shed this here verbal coil.  One, San Francisco crowds suck a bag of dicks, to quote a famous comedian.  I noticed this the last time I went to a concert in San Francisco proper.  I saw Delta Spirit and Fidlar together a while ago.  Delta Spirit is a little more relaxed that Fidlar, but some of their songs go hard.  Fidlar is music for getting fucked up and going ham to, and even if it isn’t really your thing, I believe we can all agree that when youre in motherfucking Rome, you should do as the Romans do.  Let loose a little, for Christ’s sake.  Fidlar’s songs are generally about doing frightening amounts of cocaine and partying Oakland-style, but their performance only elicited stoic expressions and tighter grips around their captive girlfriends’ shoulders from the Giants-fitted-hat-wearing young men at the venue.  I had thought, until two nights ago, that this was but a regrettable, isolated incident.  Clearly I was wrong.  The audience at Nick Cave’s concert was similarly lethargic.  I can see only two possibilities.  Either their catatonic response (this excludes the dedicated fans in the front row–I doff the cap I will never in my life wear to you) was due to their advanced age (on the wrong side of 25–that is to say, younger–I represented the youngest demographic by far), or to the fact that, apparently, every venue in San Francisco sucks as much life out of its audience as it does the color from their skin.  Second, you should go somewhere else to read a really stirring account of this concert.  Cursory internet trawling has rewarded me with two stunning gems of music-reviewing eloquence.  I am doing so very many things wrong.  Take notes, bitches.  The writer of the first article is first struck by Cave’s “fine suit.”  Amen brother, I too love a fine suit, especially on my musical idols.  He goes on to describe Cave’s performance as a stunning exhibition of “Cave-like madness.”  Nick Cave, being Cave-like?  Go figure.  Apparently Nick Cave “won the night”.  Man, fucking winning.  Yes.  Also, I realize I should use the word “glib” more.  All these years, I thought the only person who might have to defend himself against accusations (from a temporarily exasperated pack of adoring readers) of being “glib,” was this guy.  The second dude has three of Cave’s albums (THREE!), and was, purportedly, first wowed by Cave’s skillz “while nursing a $1 PBR at EJ’s in Portland, in 1997.”  As a former resident of that great city, I can promise our dear readers that both our reviewer’s choice of alcohol and apparent collection fetish are region-appropriate.  The review goes on to make daring use of the word “salacious” and briefly theorizes (its illuminating, I promise) about the original intent of rock n’ roll.  I took an English class in college once too, bro.  I readily admit my own prose is made of ass, and, like every other 20-something with a keyboard and fingers, I love adjectives, and I love adverbs even more; but you gentlemen should have a disclaimer.  The sad thing is that I realize that these fellows are doing the same thing I’m doing with a day off work, for work…for money.  I stand shoulder to shoulder with Titans, and find myself humbled.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

indicted birdcall

Image

show Em how to cook a bird.

…..

Image

Kim:  “Birdman!  now that Dennis (The diplomat) Roddman left,  I am lonely.  I like birdies!  Just ask my flock.   Come visit my neck of the woods.”

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Dear readers, for the first time since the founding of this blog, it is with great sadness that we must issue a formal apology.  My colleague penned a somewhat waspish lampoon of Michael Kors and the fashion aficionados who love him.  As it turns out, a surprising number of our devoted readers are also acolites of the accomplished designer and his various lines.  Hours ago, we were inundated with a dearth of angry emails.  Sadly, we are as yet unable to draft a response, due to the fact that the emails are largely unintelligible.  Approximately half of the characters in each email are hashtags, and the writers of the complaints generally eschew the use of the spacebar, instead choosing to string the words “swag” and “yolo” together with shocking inventiveness.  At present, we are contracting a well-respected group of professional adolescents to translate the emails for us.  You will know more when we do, beloved readers.

Following in the footsteps of the major media news outlets, we are committed to fair and balanced reporting.  It was in the spirit of that great tradition that we sent one of our most seasoned field reporters out into the wild to learn more about Michael Kors…from the inside.  For two months our reporter (whose identity has been redacted, for his protection), wore the clothes and jewelry, talked the talk, and walked the walk.  We nearly bankrupted ourselves financing his shopping sprees, bartabs, and tanning salon expenses.  Upon returning to headquarters he was in a nearly catatonic state.  He was incoherent, seemingly unable to restrain himself from showing us “his guns,” kept picking fights with interns, and had turned a sickly shade of orange.  After several days recovering in an undisclosed location, he is in stable condition and looks to make a full recovery.  Our prayers go out to him and his family.  A forthcoming PayPal account will allow concerned followers to donate money for his rehabilitation.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

flashy & trashy

Ladies/Men.  I am going to be upfront.  Michael Kors brand is the epitome of trashy movie star wannabes.  When I see a lady/man wearing any sort of gaudy accessory by Kors,  It makes me want to take a hot iron to the face while listening to Macklemore on repeat.  Lets put it this way,  Lil Wayne did not invent the popular saying bling bling to describe anything Kors offers.  Its cheap, fake, and trashier than Snookie being force fed cookies.  By the end of this post I hope to see a few golden crystal bracelets in public trashcans.  Mr. Michael Kors you are a brilliant man.  You know what Americans want and I must admit that you deliver.  I am willing to wager that your brand only gets bigger and more profitable, all the while remaining classless.

Image

Above: Mr. Michael Kors

“I know what women look good in.  I don’t think the rules ever change”  -Michael Kors

MICHAEL KORS OFFICIONADOS

Image

obviously a fashion forward thinker.  (MK watch)

Image

#goldplated and #gold big difference

Image

not diamonds

Image

just stop

Image

looks like the gold plating is wearing off

Image

hard to choose

Image

glad you were able to get the product placement in there

Image

no caption needed

Image

Image

generous

Image

thats where my door lock chain went

Image

not going to lie this is pretty swell

Image

where to begin… Lexus is owned by Toyota…which makes Prius.  tool.

Image

generally happens when one member of the family gets the chicken pox.

Image

Image

Image

you thought wrong

Image

mom, take this damn thing off your wrist

Image

Image

well.  I guess you f**ked Michael Kors then.

Image

Image

honestly..

Image

you got it.

Image

Image

Image

well spent

Image

happy birthday!

Image

well at least you still have the bankroll

Image

another fishbowl?

Image

Image

is that silver?

Image

in* your converse

Image

happy easter

Image

Image

high society indeed sir

Image

try a little harder please

Image

Image

Image

Image

Image

Image

runner up

Image

winner

Posted in fashion | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

A Rebuttal

My esteemed co-author recently wrote a short ode, singing the praises of coffee.  I can stay silent no longer.  I am employed by one of the largest coffee chains in the United States, which shall (lest I be sued for libel) remain unnamed.  I would just like to make two small points.  The first is tangential, and in no way hints which of the few coffee cartels I work for.  1.  In recent times the mythological figure of the mermaid has been airbrushed and softened.  If one were to ask someone born at the end of the last century what a mermaid looked like, they would probably describe something like this.  However, I feel it is incumbent upon us to remember that, long ago, mermaids actually looked more like this.  Rather than a reclusive monster, lurking beneath the ocean and lulling sailors to their doom, the mermaid has become a giggling minx of the waves, coyly dolphining about for our collective enjoyment.  My point is this: when you see images of mermaids in popular culture, remember what they actually are.  2.  There is another stimulant besides caffeine that is consumed in massive quantities all over America.  Like caffeine, it is generally sold in an adulterated form, consumed by a captive customer base, and is, in short, the cornerstone of a multi-million dollar market characterised by ruthless salesmanship, hostile takeovers, and savvy advertising.  Coffee aint all its cracked up to be…

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

In Praise of Coffee

Image

Coffee is a necessity in my world.  Nothing gets the day started like a fresh batch of Starbucks finest medium Kenya blend.  My love of coffee started when I was weaned.  In France it is customary for teething infants to mainline espresso.  Trust me, I’m French.  In America, on the other hand, we are used to a watered down version of this fashionable drink.  In my experience, it takes two pots of this murky concoction to feel even the slightest arousal.  In France, one cup of “joe”  will have you running half marathons in your pajamas.  However, I’ll take what I can get.  Coffee is a habit (obligatory), and so we poor fools are a captive market.  There is no denying that coffee is big business.  From coffee snobs (you know who you are)  to the people like me that will gulp down any form of the beverage on command, we all have one thing in common….we are addicts.  Lastly, my favorite coffee quotation of all time:  “I would rather suffer with coffee than be senseless”  -Napoleon Bonaparte (legend)

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Mission Statement & A Brief Introduction to the Authors

For your consideration, we submit anything and everything that strikes our fancy, or that we think stimulate the interest of our enormous userbase.  Welcome to Olympus…

Let me start with a brief introduction to your humble authors.

Ben

A political refugee from far Europe, Ben is a French ex-patriot who cottoned to the American Dream of unbridled capitalism, free enterprise, and small Government with a vengeance.  While he is not technically able to return to his country of birth on account of several outstanding warrants for his arrest, he does manage to make it back every now and again through means of his own.  He is cultured, has a taste for the finer things, and is a consumate egoist.  His has a myriad of interests, but a few notable passions include: women, cheese, wine, luxury goods, conspicuous consumption, hip hop, and bacon curing.  He is our resident correspondent reporting on Politics, Fashion, Apparel, Music, and Sex.  He is undeniably opinionated, but we trust that our readers will, at the very least, be engaged by his endlessly entertaining submissions.

Guillaume

A California native, Guillaume is a scholar, gentleman, and a veritable jack-of-all-trades.  He is a bachelor of the fine arts, with a concentration in writing.  Notable critics have described his prose as “clumsy,” “awkward,” and even “unreadable.”  He is a creature of the night, and is to be found popping the molly, sweating, and generally carousing any given evening in whatever city his jet-setting lifestyle might find him in.  He represents the more restrained, philosophical half of this enterprise, and our readers are to have the pleasure of reading his submissions on Literature, Philosophy, Gifs, Gaming, and Vice.  We beg you to slog through his overburdened prose; buried deep in the sea of self-congratulatory bullshit, a few pearly nuggets of wisdom lie hidden.

Bon chance, mes amies.  May this venture garner its authors the adulation and fame they so justly deserve!

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment