Blog 5, written with thumbs.
So last night(yes, that’s the name of my last record, shameless plug. And blender gave it a terrible review, but here I am blogging for them. I must be a masochist. At least the blogging pays well. Wait, it pays nothing? I’m an idiot)I went to the shep fairey/move on event and, at the risk of being un-ironic and not even slightly cynical, the art was great. My favorite piece had been done by a 71 year old artist from la who up until recently had been sleeping in his car. When laura from moveon called him to say that his piece was one of 3 winners he said, ‘what?’ She then said it again, ‘your piece is one of the 3 winners’, to which he replied, ‘I think you have the wrong number.”. Eventually she was able to convince him that he won.
I think he’s happy.
But the show was/is great, thanks to shep fairey and laura from moveon.
I left to go dj before the party started and apparently the party was a big crowded drunken fun clusterfuck.
I’m sorry I missed it.
Zooey deschanel and death cab for cutie and a bunch of other people played an acoustic set at midnight that was, apparently, both good and inaudible, unless you were 3 inches from the stage.
Note to aspiring acoustic performers: playing an acoustic set in between hip-hip dj’s to 1,000 drunks at midnight might not be the best idea.
Acoustic sets are great in living rooms and hushed concert venues, but less so at a huge party in between hip-hop dj’s in a room full of manic drunks.
After leaving the shep fairey party I went to the church where I dj’ed until they kicked me out.
I still don’t understand bars/clubs that have to close at 2am.
Its uncivilized, barbaric, even.
I’ve said it before, in america you can buy automatic weapons and fight and die in foreign lands but in most places you can’t but a beer at 2:05 a.m?
Its like we live in a victorian nanny state.
But the 1500 people at the church(interesting mix of ravers, club kids, delegates, journalists, politicians, etc)seemed to be having a good time until the house lights came up.
The best moments of the night were the breakdown in ‘anthem’ by miles dyson, and an ac slater track whose name I can’t remember.
Oh, the church is a church. An old church, now a nice club.
I felt a bit like gregory peck in the moby dick movie, suspended 30 feet above the crowd in my little disco pulpit.
Ironic, as gregory peck was playing ahab in the movie, bent on killing moby dick.
My self-loathing hasn’t quite reached the point where I want to kill myself with a harpoon. Operative word being ‘quite’. Thus the vague irony.
Today everyone’s trecking out to the local enormo-dome to hear barry o give his victory speech.
I might trek out, as well, or I might opt to be a sissy and watch his speech on tv in the comfort of my hotel, or possibly in the weird irish pub around the corner(‘green beer all year round!’, who can resist?).
I know, what sort of jerk has the chance to be up close and see history in the making and instead chooses to sit in a hotel room or weird irish bar watching history on tv?
Well, me, possibly.
See, to get to the enormo-dome you have to take a shuttle bus and waiti in line and I’m pretty sure they won’t have green beer at the enormo-dome.
You see my dilemma.
Ok, my thumbs are starting to get crampy.
More later from denver.
Moby
