I went to Bottom of the Hill twice this weekend; once for the first time. What a great place! Everyone was so friendly. When Selena and I got there, much to our chagrin, the show was sold out. But, like I said, people were friendly and we found tix in a few minutes. Yay!
The Delgados were good too. Selena thought they sounded a bit like Drugstore. I replied, “Drugstore?” I’m such an indie band nit-wit. Selena has a wild CD collection, including Drugstore. Sadly, it is completely unorganized. So, rather than spending hours wading through the black hole that is Selena’s CD collection, I downloaded a Drugstore tune called Sober on Napster the next day. The two bands really DO sound similar! Check it out for yourself:
Thirteen Gliding Principles, by The Delgados (mp3, ~5.3 Mb)
Sober, by Drugstore (mp3, ~4 Mb)
On Saturday I hung out with the TI crew and tpodd. Brad brought over chicken enchiladas. Yum! He’s a trained, French chef you know…I know, now you’re thinking, “French, eh? That must mean he’s a prick.” Au contraire! Anyway, after the great enchiladas, we headed out to a party in this warehouse formerly inhabited by The Four Non-Blondes. Luckily, all four of them moved out long ago. I had a good time.
At the party, Todd told me about how he went to go jam with Jack Saturn earlier that day. All the music I’ve been around in the past 72 hours has made me wish I was in a band. I don’t really have the instrumental talent though. As I like to tell people, “I’m not so much a guitar player as I am, someone who plays with a guitar.” And even though I play a mean Trombone, not too many bands are looking to fill that particular musical niche. I mentioned to Brad though, the second time I was at Bottom of the Hill this past weekend, “As a singer, I’m all about the lyrics.” Brad’s a great singer too, so I was surprised to hear him say that lyrics didn’t matter too much to him. The problem with being a singer is, it’s damn near impossible to find a band who needs a singer.
…oh yeah, further compounding my musical quandary: my old roommate, Matt, is coming for a visit over the Thanksgiving holiday. If he weren’t going for a PhD at Georgia Tech, he’d probably be opening for Eric Johnson or something…point is, he’s an unbelievable guitarist. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t get lessons from him in college…too busy with the whole school thing, I guess. Maybe I can convince him to move out here and start a band with me.
Summary of the above ramblings: it was a good weekend.
Note: You may have been confused by the fact that my name is Brad and my best friend’s name is also Brad. Feel free to re-read the whole thing. I’ll wait…