I'm very fond of Karlheinz Stockhausen
'Musique Concr�te' excites me
Luciano Berio inflames my very being
But when I've left behind my passion for serial composition
I bite at an enormous tangerine.
The Momus / St�r�o Total show was excellent, thank you. NC looks more earnest these days, on stage, that is. Perhaps it's the hardships general and specific of living in New York actuellement. Or else the other times I've seen him, he's been unusually grouchy. The crowd were having fun (though they looked uncomfortable about it), and Momus was surprised how literate we all must be, here in Cambridge, MA, to get all his references.
The best part of the evening, and I think some of the crowd would disagree strongly with me here, is the way NC arsed about on stage. He danced and hopped. He put on funny wigs and hats, he held his laptop up to the mic to sing the part of a electronic organizer, he mimed plucking and eating a tangerine the size of a basketball. La sincerit� est morte! Vive le kitsch!
Somebody even gave him a huge cardboard poster with "GISM" in foot-high letters on it, sporting, I believe, a photograph of the Mometic Penis (as cast by Cynthia qui prima suis miserum me cepit plasteribus) But I never got a close look at it, so it could have been anybody's.
St�r�o Total rocked, despite a fan base who were more interested in shouting requests than hearing music. They did this really great ... �zis is a new, uh, dess-m�tal songue about ze divvil� [apparently, he's English, just like Jehovah] and finished off the main set with "L'amour � trois", gods bless 'em. [Soupir. O� sont les couples bisexuels d'antan?]. There were about four more songs after they came back on stage, so I missed the last train and walked home (it took exactly an hour with no stops, which is good to remember).
Well, the trip out last night basically bankrupted me, so I'll be tossing myself onto the dread mercies of the Third Rail soon. Not that I don't have things to live for -- I mean, I get jokes about the Frankfurt School! I can translate lyrics to German disco tunes! hell, the world's my feckin' oxster -- but I still don't get out of bed before 13:00, no matter how much will power I might have so to do when down I lay my weary corse at night. KP said yesterday evening (I was in the office to pick KK up to go play music) that what I really want to be is a student; thus he spake, and a crooked sneer engrav'd his face. Doesn't he realize that one cannot be truly beautiful until one is useless?
Still reading: The Faerie Queene
Listening to: Guillaume Dufay, secular songs
Wearing: a pink shirt that shrank in the wash and jeans with a huge and naughty hole in the shamefuls.