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From "W. Colter" <deedlemusic@sbcglobal.net>
Subject Prog dogs
Date Wed, 26 Nov 2003 14:32:53 -0800 (PST)

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Oh, lordy, prog.  Don't know if I've shared this little story or not, but my one and only experience going to a prog show was nearly the end of a promising relationship with a creative boyfriend (who, to be fair, loved all kinds of music and had the coolest Beatle haircut).  He liked getting romantic to Neu! which was frankly a bit too distracting for me, but I will credit him for playing me all the Henry Cow socks and The Bevis Frond, which I still mostly love.

Anyway, so we went to this show at the Variety Arts theater downtown and I swear on my granny's knickers I've never seen so many mullets in one room in my entire life. Or plastic pocket protectors.  I think I was one of maybe four women in the entire place, but that was a bit deceiving because I think some of the gals had femullets and I was fooled.  Where did all these mullet people come from?  I mean, this is Los Angeles, for heaven's sake, the snooty hotbed of hipness!  Anyway...

The bands on the bill were from countries where the climate is so cold all you want do is drink heavily and write music with weird meters just to keep things interesting (one assumes).  There was one band with a lead singer who came out in a cape and pretended he was playing to an arena-sized crowd with fists pumping and flashpots exploding.  And another band of gentle folk who dressed in psuedo-renaissance garb and played their entire set about a 1/4 step out of tune with each other.  The headliner act featured several of those over-the-shoulder synths, pointy-shaped guitars and songs that were mostly long solos with a zillion notes each.  I fell asleep at some point.  The only good part, which enhanced the sharp contrast between "good" and "so lame" was the Pink Floyd that was piped in between acts.

That's all I have to report.

W.  


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