Effervescent In Pink: July 2006

Thursday, July 20, 2006

I Think You're Crazy, Maybe

(Note: I did not take this picture, it was generously posted on atease by Chris)

Over the years, I've met people who've seen Radiohead over 30 times, who've travelled across the country to see them, across the world to see them, who've sat in line-ups for over 20 hours to see them. In comparison to these people, I am just your regular above-average fan. Exceptionally normal in my Radiohead fandom. However, upon leaving this little bubble of obssession, I have discovered how my "mediocre" enthusiasm is a little....well, insane. And as I booked my flight down, I realized how few would trek down to San Francisco on fairly short notice to see Radiohead both nights they play Berkeley - especially after having already seen them 12 times.

Night One:
I did agree to forgo the craziness of waiting all day in line and on the first night took a mature seat with Adam and Pat toward the back, but did so with two fellow Radiohead fanatics in tow - Robin and Roxy whom I had met on the first pilgrimage in 2002. And pretty early on, it became abundantly clear to Robin, Roxy and me that most people around us simply couldn't contend with our enthusiasm. We recognized the songs a good 10 seconds before everyone else, we even knew all the new material. We clapped along in the right places, we sushed during the quiet songs, we jumped up for the stompers. In short, we must have been quite annoying.

Anyway, Berkeley Night 1 was a great show, but it was just not.....what I remembered. "Oh God. Oh no. Is the magic gone? Am I just too old for this now?," I worried.

Some people accept turning points in their life with a logical matter-of-factness: "that Santa Claus thing was nice but now it's gone". Some revel in the maturity these moments provide: "that Santa Claus thing is only for kids". But people like me, we despair; to simply grow out of such magic is terrible and awful. I remember how desperately I willed Santa to remain real in my mind, and the gnawing pit in my stomach night felt remarkably similar. Robin and Roxy felt the same way - none of us wanted to be negative but we found ourselves spending the concert afterglow excusing the performance (much to the chagrin of Adam and Pat).

Night Two:
Adam and Pat (who are much more mature and moderate than me) decided that the show the night before was more than good enough and they had better things to do with their evening and so they sold their extra tickets. I met up with the lovely DB to catch Show #2, desperate and determined that this night would live up to my expectations. We decided to stand much closer to the stage this time, and made our way awkwardly to the back of the pit. We found everyone standing around us annoying - not a good sign.

The lights went down. I drew a deep breath.

And Berkeley Night 2 blew my mind. The raw-edged chords of "Airbag" opened the show with an amazing energy and I could almost feel my heart buoy as they then launched straight into "2+2=5". With intensity to burn, the five boys from Oxford killed the new songs and delivered a pile of surprises - “Kid A”, “Black Star”, "Fake Pastic Trees", and “True Love Waits” on the Rhodes. [Many people question the logic of seeing a band two nights in a row, assuming it would get boring - these people don't know Radiohead's amazing catalogue. Over the two nights (save the new songs) only one song was repeated and that song was markedly different one night from the next: Setlist 1 vs. Setlist 2]

They closed the second encore with the ultra rare "The Tourist", one of the few songs I had never heard before. "Yes Aleksandra, there is a Santa Claus." A light fog rolled in and tears slid down my cheeks. Magic.

The last two minutes of Fake Plastic Trees:

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

DISCLAIMER

I must be honest. It is not July 19th. So to those of you who checked this blog for months in hope of a new post, you are not crazy.

However, in my defence, all following post-dates are the dates I drafted them - I just never got around to finish them until much later.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Fake Tales of San Francisco

(note: this is hopefully the last of my long-overdue posts. Rejoice!)

This belated post is about my trip down to San Francisco, a (in my skewed view) much-deserved reward after finishing my contract organizing the Planners for Tomorrow conference.
(Aside: P4T went fabulously, and I learned a lot - mainly, I never want to event plan again.)

Anyhoo, so while most people of the planning variety were coming to Vancouver for the World Urban Forum, I decided to leave Vancouver and spend some time in a new city, just for kicks. Oh, and to see Radiohead. (I think I'll write more on that in my next post....okay, this is the second last belated post....)

Some cities I love for their vibrant city centre, others endear for their more understated widespread idiosyncracies. San Francisco definitely falls into the latter - I was hard-pressed to pick a favourite area, they were all so different.

That said, my favourite discoveries were perhaps a little obscure:
Flax Art & Design - a huge art supply store (on Market)
The Container Store - how these people stay in business is kind of beyond me... (on 4th)
David's Delicatessen - a fantastically dodgy deli on Geary Street. Excellent cheese blintzes!
The Savoy Hotel - they are so nice! (also on Geary)
Paxton Gate - oh my god, Paxton Gate, there are no words.

Of course, World Cup was in full swing those days and so a fair bit of the vacation was spent in hotel rooms and bars, but we did manage to get out to Alcatraz and ride the old Italian streetcars on the F-Line like good little tourists. (Oh, and a speedy cab ride up and down the hills of downtown.) We also managed to squeeze in a little culture via the De Young Museum (well, the observation tower and gift shop) and the Museum of Modern Art. About which I will share with you a little tale....

So Pat and I went to check out MOMA - fanastic photography, design, and the feature "Matthew Barney is insane" floor. Leaving the crazy Xiferotarch architecture exhibit, an older couple headed out before me into the lobby and sat down on a bench. The second they sat down, the wall in front of them began moving. "Oh, this is an exhibit!" cried the lady, and I quickly snuck in beside her to catch the exhibition. The moving walls revealed a large deconstructed room behind, with ropes jumbled in one corner, some plywood, and some Matthew Barney exhibit signs in the other corner.
"Now what is this about? Is something supposed to happen? No, this is just realism?..." I thought as the wife thought aloud, "oh, I was wondering what that garbage can was doing sitting out in the lobby, it's part of the exhibition...."

The husband and I took a look at the garbage can sitting outside the deconstructed room with equipment in it....I think the realization dawned on us at the same time...then just as the husband turned to break the news to his wife, a janitor came out of nowhere and wheeled her garbage can into the freight elevator.

Modern Art: 1
Sucker Visitors: 0

More of my pictures are here, but my favourites are below. (Sepia seems to suit the fog.)

Thursday, July 06, 2006

A Perfect Day

Congratulations Tim and Megan!

In early June, I was pleased to attend the wedding of a good friend of mine, Tim, who married the very cool Megan in a ceremony only the two of them could pull off. It was one of those weddings that perfectly reflected the couple - in this case: laidback but not lazy, fun-loving but not goofy, quirky in a funloving, rather than a trying-too-hard, kind of way.

A scarlet bride, a surprise ceremony performance, a local kareoke star, the "bat story", and a dancing priest - I have since been challenged to host a funner wedding and I am not sure I'll be up to the task. Everyone there was lovely and so friendly, and that dance floor was packed all night!

[One tale from the Dance Floor you'll want to hear: One of the bridesmaids was all over dominating the dance floor, something I encouraged on what was a special dayfor her. However, Scott had begun to worry about his old friend Aleksandra keeping her reputation as resident Dancing Queen and felt the need to tell her as

much. In quick response, the DJ gods put on Footloose and Vogue in succession. You don't mess with Aleks and the 80s; needless to say, my reputation is still golden.]

But the star of the night's dance floor had to be Megan's Uncle Ross. Apparently he is a normally shy artist most days, but that night he was on fire. My favourite was when he danced the crab to "Thriller"...this man is extremely spry for his years.

Anyway, all the best, Tim and Megan. I only hope I will one day enjoy a wedding as happy as this one was.

And let's hope my future husband has an Uncle Ross...

Monday, July 03, 2006

Tales from the Shallow South

So May zoomed by superduper fast, without many moments offering particular insight. It was, however, bookended by two great trips down to Washington for some rock music goodness.

So...another music post it is, then!

The first trip down was to see my beloved Goldfrapp at the Showbox in Seattle. I've decided that the Showbox is one of my favourite venues - gorgeous architecture, cheap beer, and a photo booth! Plus, the Green Room

downstairs is a great place to hang out with fantastically fun friends over a few Pabst Blue Ribbons.

The audience, on the other hand, did not live up to its venue at all. I mean, there was no way they would be as much fun as James and
Marisol and me, but I have been consistently disappointed with Goldfrapp audiences each time I've seen them. Make no mistake, I am most definitely not looking to be elitist - there is no fun in being a bigger fan than others, that's not what I'm on about. What I am on

about is that these losers don't dance during the disco-inducing tracks and then they gab on loudly during the amazing vocal showpieces...why the heck did you bother to come out, then?

Note to Goldfrapp Audiences: Shut Up and Dance.

The end of May saw me down at the Gorge for the big 5-year anniversary of the Sasquatch festival. This was the first time Sasquatch ran 3 days - I was certainly excited for the crazy awesome lineup, but having been to Glastonbury (the queen of all music festivals), I didn't really expect to really feel the "festival vibe" at Sasquatch.

Well, just as the lame-ass Goldfrapp audience took away from that show,

the crowd was the best part of the festival for me. Many will point to the hailstorm on Saturday as the big rallying point for Sasquatchers, but I felt the group comeraderie all the way back to the mainstage soundcheck Saturday morning. People weren't there to "be wowed", they were just in a mood to have a good time and check stuff out.

And dance! Top moment of the weekend: the super-random 40-person "impromptu dance party" during Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. Unreplicable moments like that one are why I go to live shows.

Anyhoo, it's been awhile now since Memorial Day Long Weekend, I'm sure you've already heard about how great Architecture in Helsinki, the Arctic Monkeys, and the Decemberists were so I won't bother you with details. But I will share...

Aleksandra's Top 5 Favourites of Sasquatch 2006:
1) The Clap Your Hands Say Yeah Dance Party. What rock n

roll shows should be.
2) Beck. HELL YES! Holy crap, that was wicked, I don't think I have danced that balls-to-the-wall in forever, Jamie and I were on fire! Lots of great old stuff, it almost made me forget how badly Midnight Vultures got the shaft that night (almost). If only Erin were there, it would have been perfect...
3) Jamie Lidell. Amazing. If you get the chance to see him, do. He's like Alex Gopher, Kid Koala and Stevie Wonder all in one.
4) The Shins. Nothing makes me smile more than Marty Crandall. Except when Marty's making James Mercer smile.
5) Flaming Lips. This was my fourth time seeing the Lips, and it was definitely the pinnacle of the Lips experience. Fans dancing in santa and alien costumes, the massive Bohemian Rhapsody singalong, the nun puppet, the flahslights, the bubble, the confetti, the Wayne...

In other May news: I came home from Sasquatch to hear that the Jeffrey Ellis case didn't need me in court after all. So after 18 months of forms, letters, flight changes, and phone calls, that was the anti-climactic end to that story. "Whatevs," I thought as my head hit my pillow for a much-needed rest.

Effervescent In Pink