I was at the Pixies show in the Hammer Wednesday night. And believe me when I tell you holy early 90s flashback, Batman. Seriously. The hair! The fashions! People drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade! They were all back with a vengeance in the crowd at the Convention Centre. Unreal. But the Pixies, man they kicked ass. Frank’s voice doesn’t seem to have changed in 25 years, and there is still no one cooler than Kim Deal. No. One. They did a set of very respectable length, and then came back to do an equally respectable encore. Awesome all around. And we finished the night with Diet Cokes and nachos at the West Town. As you do on a Wednesday night.
Compared to the Raveonettes show I saw a couple of weeks ago, well, there’s no comparison. In defense of that band, the sound seemed a bit off and the music and lyrics were very muddy. That didn’t help matters, but to me there just didn’t seem to be the right amount of energy. I know that their more current music tends to be a little less driving and a little more introspective, but although we did get to hear that distinct Raveonettes surf-rock, garage band-type stuff, I have to say most of the night left me cold. Having said that, it was a wicked night with friends, an excellent dinner at Pizzeria Libretto and loadsa laughs. Which totally made up for it.
And in keeping with my musical post here, let me tell you about Just Kids, Patti Smith’s memoir about her life with Robert Mapplethorpe. I loved this book way more than I thought I would. Way more. I know who Patti is, of course. And I know who Robert was, of course. But I didn’t know about their life together. And I didn’t know shit about anything else, but Patti, she schooled me. A truly lovely tribute, well-written, almost poetic (which makes sense, duh, she’s kind of a poet, right?) The kind of book that can make you nostalgic for a time period you never even knew, and make you dream of living in the Chelsea hotel subsisting on nothing but coffee, cigarettes and art.
Speaking of great books, I am incredibly disappointed that Julie Orringer’s amazing The Invisible Bridge did not make the shortlist for the Orange Prize. And I realize that I am outing myself as a huge nerd for even knowing shiz like this, but there you have it. Truly, truly disappointed. Also, Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Good Squad did not make the shortlist, but hey, she got a Pulitzer, so you know, there’s that. In related literary news I am about half way through Tea Obreht’s The Tiger’s Wife, which is wonderful. So I guess I do have a horse in this race after all. Or a tiger? Ahaha – I slay me.
So there you have it, my about-to-be-Easter-weekend wrap-up of what done gone down. Enjoy the long weekend, blogfriends. Rock on, Pixies style if the spirit moves you.