About last night...

So, as Carl (dammit, find the link on the left, or follow an old link below) wrote in his blog, we went to the Fire Theft show at the Black Cat. It was an experience.

First, that's the first show I've ever gone to where I really paid little to no attention to the bands. Now, that's not entirely due to the bands (they didn't help, of course), but my interest was minimal from the beginning. I was there merely to hang out with the boys and to get my drink on. If that means plunking down $15 to do it, so be it. I figured The Fire Theft would be somewhat redeeming to boot.

Wrong.

I'll come right out with it: I've never been the biggest fan of the alleged "emo" genre, particularly the mid 90s to present garden variety bands (ha! someone will get that). Boy's Life, Braid, just about any of the Jade Tree roster...they did nothing for me. Now, that's not a uniform indictment of the genre. The first albums by The Promise Ring and Jets to Brazil are solid; ditto Knapsack's Day Three of My New Life. My personal favorite is Drive Like Jehu's Yank Crime. The first four tracks off that album eviscerates 99% of the other emo bands out there, and I recommend you go pick up the 2002 reissue with all due speed. It's the closest approximation of Rites of Spring's unhinged fury you'll find.

However, those bands are the exception, not the rule. Sunny Day Real Estate, from which 3/4 of The Fire Theft come, weren't that bad, either. (Not that I own any of their albums.) But they were too perilously close to their whiny peers to do much for me. The end result was nothing but a bunch of 20-something white boys whining about this or that. It was journal entries set to pseudo-impactful music. (There's even a line in a Jets to Brazil song that sums up the emo MO: "My dear diary/it's just you and me tonight.") Needless to say, it can be VERY tedious.

Still, because I know that SDRE had been decent, I gave the Fire Theft the benefit of the doubt. It never clicked. The band wasn't terrible. They were just kinda boring. Even though I freely admit to not really being into the music before I set foot in the club, if it were worthwhile, it certainly would have grabbed me at some point. But it never happened. It was song after song of the same thing. No visceral rush, no moments of rock ecstasy where the band just opens it up and let's it all out, something you'd expect from a genre built on emotional outpouring. But I got nothing. I half-jokingly said to Carl last night that metal, which I've been listening to a lot the last few months, has ruined me for music like this, because metal is so up front and visceral that the music is almost physically tangible. But that may just be a convenient excuse. I stick by my previous assertion: the band just wasn't that good.

There are a few other things I could comment on from last night (on the non-music side of things), but it hardly seems worth it.

Also, a word of advice: when it's almost 2 in the morning, and you haven't eaten in hours, and you're getting those post-drinking munchies, try to keep it simple. For example, do not pick up some greasy food from the local ghetto chinese place and proceed to house it when you get home. It's just good sense.