United State of Electronica
My Name Is Dan, and I Am Disco
Neumos, Seattle, WA
Eight people are on stage vying for first place in the costume contest. The hosts are half-hearted, have no system of choosing contestants, and keep things dragging along so slowly that at least 20 type A personalities in the crowd, including myself, would like very much to jump on the stage and take over.
The finalists are: Doublemint Twins, Vagina, Ronald McDonald (my friend, who flips off the audience), Cupcake, Bert, and, um, Late-Term Abortion (gal in miniskirt holding cocktail connected to dwarf in Hefty bag and skull cap). While the latter is probably the most inventive, it offends this crowd's PC sensibilities and Bert wins by a landslide. They need to give out a second-place prize, but the applause is so weak for the remaining people that one of the hosts just chooses, and he chooses Vagina. See how punk rock we are?
The guy who arrives too late for the contest but clearly would have won is Bike Accident - he has a broken bike frame around him, blood and scabs on his face, and a bike helmet with a license plate sticking out of it. Nicely done. Other people have taken less care with this project, and I start asking people what they are when I can't tell. A guy in a silver mask and red suit very clearly repeats "ROWLRFRYM" three times, and shrugs like I'm an idiot when I can't figure that out.
My friend is wearing a smack-on Annie Hall costume, and the ONLY person who gets it is a boy dressed up like Linda Evans from Dynasty. Rent something other than Royal Tennenbaums, people, there are far too many tennis rackets here tonight. I am dressed as my mother circa 1968, which of course no one would know so it's fun to have them guess.
Neumos "Spooky Fall Ball" is U.S.E.'s last show of their monster tour, and they're down one member due to pneumonia--not a surprise considering their schedule. They have a fill-in who does a great job. I don't know where this band gets its energy, but it appears to be boundless. They have the crowd amped and dancing in no time. Santa, Scooby, and Cupcake must be sweating like crazy. Suddenly the girls dressed as hookers look pretty smart.
Costumes can reveal our innermost selves - our loathing, our hopes, our recognition that we are turning into our mother. The last guy I inquire about has on white pants and a shiny shirt. I ask him what his costume is, and he strikes a Saturday Night Live pose, blowing smoke dramatically into the air. John Travolta? I ask. "Disco Dan" he says. Is that a character from something? "No. My name is Dan, and I am disco."
Neumos, Seattle, WA
Eight people are on stage vying for first place in the costume contest. The hosts are half-hearted, have no system of choosing contestants, and keep things dragging along so slowly that at least 20 type A personalities in the crowd, including myself, would like very much to jump on the stage and take over.
The finalists are: Doublemint Twins, Vagina, Ronald McDonald (my friend, who flips off the audience), Cupcake, Bert, and, um, Late-Term Abortion (gal in miniskirt holding cocktail connected to dwarf in Hefty bag and skull cap). While the latter is probably the most inventive, it offends this crowd's PC sensibilities and Bert wins by a landslide. They need to give out a second-place prize, but the applause is so weak for the remaining people that one of the hosts just chooses, and he chooses Vagina. See how punk rock we are?
The guy who arrives too late for the contest but clearly would have won is Bike Accident - he has a broken bike frame around him, blood and scabs on his face, and a bike helmet with a license plate sticking out of it. Nicely done. Other people have taken less care with this project, and I start asking people what they are when I can't tell. A guy in a silver mask and red suit very clearly repeats "ROWLRFRYM" three times, and shrugs like I'm an idiot when I can't figure that out.
My friend is wearing a smack-on Annie Hall costume, and the ONLY person who gets it is a boy dressed up like Linda Evans from Dynasty. Rent something other than Royal Tennenbaums, people, there are far too many tennis rackets here tonight. I am dressed as my mother circa 1968, which of course no one would know so it's fun to have them guess.
Neumos "Spooky Fall Ball" is U.S.E.'s last show of their monster tour, and they're down one member due to pneumonia--not a surprise considering their schedule. They have a fill-in who does a great job. I don't know where this band gets its energy, but it appears to be boundless. They have the crowd amped and dancing in no time. Santa, Scooby, and Cupcake must be sweating like crazy. Suddenly the girls dressed as hookers look pretty smart.
Costumes can reveal our innermost selves - our loathing, our hopes, our recognition that we are turning into our mother. The last guy I inquire about has on white pants and a shiny shirt. I ask him what his costume is, and he strikes a Saturday Night Live pose, blowing smoke dramatically into the air. John Travolta? I ask. "Disco Dan" he says. Is that a character from something? "No. My name is Dan, and I am disco."
posted by The Fanalyst at 9:32 AM
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