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May 11, 2005
Charred From the Fire
Monday, May 9 - Arcade Fire - London Astoria
5:53 PM: In the coach, traveling through outskirts of North London, notice a man wearing a motorcycle helmet as he walks across his front porch INTO his house. Please Lord, let this be foreshadowing, if not only for the concert I'm about to see, but also to give my life that literary pang it needs.
6:18: Pass library with quotes written all over the exterior. Get excited and start scribbling. "Culture is man's cry in the face of destiny." - Albert Camus. What am I?
6:52: Walk through Victoria Coach Station to Blink-182 playing. Feeling literary edge just wiped away. Insert Hollywood cheese soundtrack.
7:17: Meet British Zara, never met before. A friend of a friend. Credit: Dirtyphil. Walk to pub.
7:25: Awkwardly order food as she just gets drink.
7:39: We realize that had been in the same place at the same time TWICE. Her parents live in Hattiesburg. Been to an AA*LW Soulshine show and a small Christmas party at QiD household. Scolding my sense of recognition and recollection
8:15: Leave Zara for show. No sign of Maureen / Laura.
8:19: Still no sign of Maureen / Laura. Calls to cell phone go straight to voice mail. Text messaging furiously, to no reply.
8:21: Plane must be delayed. Where are they? Hearing the opener, must get inside. What to do with their tickets that are in my possession? No rock to leave under.
8:23: Ticket lady agrees to hold them. Scribble names on back.
8:25: Walk up literally 23 flights of stairs. Am at absolute rear of venue. Reward self with beer.
8:27: Walk down 23 flights of stair. Elbow way through British people, at least to mid-center of the floor.
8:37: Still standing. Maybe the 8th text message to them will be trick. No reply.
8:39: Why the hell is there no in-between set music? This is indeed travesty.
8:43: Cue Arcade Fire entrance. Rollicking into "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)."
8:44: Jumping, teary-eyed.
8:45: There's the helmet on his head. Foreshadowing, indeed!
8:46: Wait, where's the helmet gone? Damn you, literary ethos!
8:48: Begin song 2, "Haiti."
8:49: At moment of pure enjoyment, fear-stricken. Do they know the tickets at the box office? Could their plane have crashed? Would their inability to get into the show lead to a sudden spiral of street-living and disbelief in hope?
8:54: Text message: "WERE OUTSIDE ASTORIA." To leave, risk losing spot, or not to leave? Not to leave. Assume they get in.
9:05: London crowd getting more into it, but as presumed, more sentiment of, "Who is this North American hype machine?" Need less of that, more dance my ass off.
9:11: "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)." Screaming. Jumping. Must get closer to stage. Please, couple to my right, stop squeezing and start screaming.
9:13: 40-year-old-men row behind dancing. Me dancing.
9:27: Richard Reed Parry gives hope to loser like me. Becomes semi-hero.
9:43 - Thank you, goodnight.
9:51: Cue encore.
9:55: Win Butler into crowd. Standing on people's shoulders, believes he's singing. However, microphone cord has come out. Moment of epiphany.
10:11: This can't be it? Somewhat cheated. Hype was there. Was hype achieved?
10:17: Faith in music still intact, reaffirmed if anything.
10:19: Standing in line to exit. Take a seat to let clear out. Notice Win Butler hop from backstage into where everyone is filing out. Without tie, no one recognizes.
10:20: What to say? "So, was that a guitar you were playing?" "How does it feel to have the independent music world on your shoulders?" "Your wife is pretty sexy when she sings, don't you think?" These things are always so awkward.
10:21: "Thanks, that was excellent." Nods his head. "Thank you." Hulking figure. "Glad you enjoyed it," between sips of beer. Autograph seeker cuts in front of me.
10:22: Exit, front door right.
10:24: Greatest concert experience of my life, as predicted by others? Not close. Great, but not greatest. Upper echelon of Flaming Lips, Radiohead and Sigur Ros not broached.
Needed more of this:
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Postscript: “It takes a band like Arcade Fire to remind you that we are all custodians of our innocence and that we let it die at our peril.” -- Robert Everett-Green, Toronto Globe & Mail
Posted by houch at May 11, 2005 12:18 AM
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Comments
"give my life that literary pang it needs"... have you been reading Walker Percy? well if not, you sure should be, get to "the last gentleman" already... glad you enjoyed your music show.
Posted by: Matt Kilgore at May 11, 2005 02:35 AM
i'm glad you enjoyed it, but i'm sorry you didn't think it was as good as it was.
maybe you'll do better next time.
*wink and a heart,
jimmy
Posted by: jimmy j at May 12, 2005 12:17 AM
For some reason I'm a little relieved that you didn't find it as phenomenal as everyone else, because I thought that was a little weird and strange, like everybody agreed on the car ride home to tell everyone else (me) how good it was. Thanks for exposing the truth.
Posted by: susie at May 12, 2005 02:58 AM