Like usual, it starts with a boy. And it ends at an area club watching a band that seriously sounded like it stepped out of the early '90s. The bad part of the early '90s.
Right. I will admit, loud and proud, of my love for Oasis. Okay? Noel Gallagher is a fucking g*d in my opinion. They are the best fucking Beatles tribute act of all time. I hated the Beatles until Oasis came along! No fucking joke. ANYWAY. So, here we have my love for Oasis, so you know I can totally appreciate terrible pop pub rock. On the other hand, there is my massive hatred for bands such as the Goo Goo Dolls and the Gin Blossoms. I hear that sort of music, plaintive Empire Records-style crap and I want to seriously shake babies.
Anyway. So we go to see this band. This band called Minky Starshine and The New Cardinals or SOMETHING. Yes, I know. See, I was totally fine with the fact that the lead singer considered Minky to be his alter-ego, blah blah blah, mostly because he was older than me and still rocking badges on his lapels, but I guess I was expecting something a bit more. Um. Rocking? Anyway. I felt like I was stuck in VH1, circa 1996. Yes, I know. I think I may have enjoyed myself more if the band actually engaged with the (albeit minimal) audience. Because some of the smallest shows I've gone to have been the best, because the band used it as an opportunity to hone their craft of showmanship, of performance, not just using the good acoustics for a rehearsal. Because, ultimately, that's what this felt like. No movement on stage, nothing. I can forgive a lot re: musical stylings, as long as you entertain me. But if you don't entertain me, I don't care how good you sound (Hello, Tool at the Tweeter Center last fall!), I'm going to fall asleep. I could go home and listen to your album if I wanted to hear you. Going to a show is about the entire experience.
(Seriously, while writing this, I had to go to that MySpace page a couple of times and I seriously am listening to Maximo Park on 11 right now to clean out my ears. Agh!)
Look, it's fine, it's honorable, keep on keeping on. But. Like. I want to stop being crazy because they are nice enough guys and all, but I just read on their blog that they were selected by the CW to be used on an upcoming show this season. Are you fucking kidding me? I remember when the WB first started using "indie" music in their shows -- it was actually awesome to see bands like Guster on television and hear things that you normally wouldn't on primetime. That only lasted for less than a year, until the corporate whores upstairs figured out that they could repackage the tunes on compilation albums and make a fucking mint and pay the bands close to nothing for their music. SO. On top of the fact that I was bored fuckless, to find out that they actually were selected to be on the CW plus the fact I think the CW is run by a bunch of See You Next Tuesdays, I just have no space in my tiny black heart to like this band.
I really, really wanted to like this band. Who wouldn't like a 30-something hipster with crazy hair and badges on a well worn blazer? Come on! This is my bread and butter, people. What would it take?
Maybe if Minky learns how to shake his ass on stage. Maybe.