I don't want to keep harping on about the gigs I've been to, but I'm going to anyway. Sigur Ros were playing last night and, coincidentally enough, this was the gig I was at. Why were you not there, gentle reader? I waited and waited for you, but you did not come. I am beginning to feel slighted. Is it me? Do I smell? Or are you embarrassed by the way I dress? Loincloths and woad are back in, I tell you - very retro chic!
Anyway... here are some of the things you missed out on:
- Very creative use of wineglasses and musical saws.
- Buxom lasses playing said saw and wineglass with skill and verve.
- Some of the most amazing counter-tenor vocals I've ever heard: the sort of voice they used to achieve in the good old days via the careful application of cleaver to love spud.
- A truly horrendous opening support act - although this was possibly just a chromed-up busker who wandered in without anyone noticing.
- Thanks to the lingering effects of a cold, yours truly manufacturing mucus at a rate hitherto unknown in human beings. Attractive!
- Icelandic post-rock par excellence.
I will go so far as to say that last night was one of the best concerts I've attended - easily within the top ten. One can only assume that Iceland produces such great music because there's bugger all else to do - besides drink, complain about the cold, and hump like crazed monkeys. Bravo, chaps!
Such a pity that you missed it all, gentle reader, but that's what you get for snubbing me. I mean, you keep ignoring my emails; screening your calls; handing that sheep's heart I stuffed in your letterbox over to the police. It's very unfair of you, I must say. I'm back on the meds after all, and I did promise to buy you a new rabbit. Much more of this, and there will be trouble.