Gig Chatter: Radiohead, Live In Dublin
-
Artist:
-
Album:
-
Track:
!http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3272/2567072315_fe28962b30.jpg?v=0!(Drinking outside a pub in the sun before the gig, two blond guys roller-blade past, holding hands.) Richie: Very San Francisco.Me: They have to be American, don’t they? Irish gays stay indoors and drink themselves to death.Richie: Want another pint?Me: What are you trying to say?(On train to the gig, we see a Miller poster.)Me: Have you seen those Miller ads on TV. With all the hipsters? This is aspirational? This is what they think we want to be? A hipster with a beard and corduroys riding a bike? Since when are fucking geography teachers cool?!(Richie approaches gig site while supping a can of lager.)Security: No alcohol past this point.Me: You’ll have to dump it. Richie: My cold, dead hand!(Gulps down the can.)(Inside the gate, we’re confronted by a packed bar selling one type of lager. It’s overpriced and piss weak.)Richie: The whole gig is just an excuse to squeeze money out of us. And they’ve no right to take drink off you. How are they allowed to do that? The rangers in the Park [where I work] haven’t got the power to confiscate anything or remove you. Like, today the whole bandstand area was full of junkies. The rangers couldn’t do anything. Me: They should get the park deer hunter on the case.Richie: A junkie cull?Me: Yeah, take out the older junkies. Sell them for meat. Richie: Good idea. I’ll mention it at the next staff meeting.(We meet up with friends Liz, Sara, Dave, and Ed. Ed returns from the bar, frothing at the mouth)Ed: They have wi-fi points! Jesus, people are bringing their laptops to gigs now! Me: To do a bit of browsing between songs.Ed: Yeah! How middle-class is that!Richie: It’s one giant Miller ad.!http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3084/2567893388_458b561b6e.jpg?v=0!"Hello Mog! -- Non-Miller drinkers Liz, Ed, Dave"(The band are taking their time arriving on stage.)Me: Thom Yorke is snorting up tofu.Richie: Johnny Greenwood’s injected some soya milk. Gig cancelled. (Radiohead take to the stage, Ed doesn’t notice.)Ed: There’s another one!Me: One what? Ed: Ralph Lauren logos!Me: How many have you spotted?Ed: Thousands! This is the most middle-class gig I’ve ever been to!(I’m approached by a young skinhead.)Bloke: Got any (mumbles something incomprehensible.)Me: Sorry, mate, I’ve nothing for you.(Walks off)Richie: What did he want?Me: Drugs! What do I always get asked for drugs at gigs?!Richie: No, he’s working for charity. He was asking for money. Look, he’s got a box with a slit.(He is indeed a charity worker. Much laughter.)(Somewhere in the distance, Radiohead are playing a gig.)Liz: I can’t see anything, except lights. Vaguely. In that direction.Dave: The lightshow is eco-friendly. There’s no heat from the lights onstage. Me: Great, that’ll make the music sound better. 70 quid well spent by us. !http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3130/2567071941_df4ff7a779.jpg?v=0!"The eco-friendly lights made it all worthwhile"(Onstage, Thom Yorke is admonishing somebody)Thom Yorke: Stop doing that. Don’t do that!Me: Somebody’s nicked a rice cake from the rider.Richie: “You have to pay for that wi-fi!”(Richie goes to the toilets. He’s gone for ages.)Me: Where’s Richie?Dave: Don’t worry, he was in the Boy Scouts.(He is found a half hour later, wandering around on his own.)Richie: I got lost.Me: What were you using as guidance?Richie: The sun.Me: The sun went down.Richie: I know. That’s how I got lost.(Richie goes to the bar. A long time later, he returns. But he stands twenty feet in front of us, looking around. We throw things at him until he turns around and sees us. )Richie: I got lost again.Me: What were you using this time, a shooting star?!http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3029/2565301914_b60d061f34.jpg?v=1213032369!"Everyone except Richie"(The gig ends.)Richie: No atmosphere, had it?Me: Never coming to one of these Walmart gigs again.Richie: We’ve Neil Young here in two weeks.Me: (long groan).(Afterwards, on a train packed with gig-goers, a hipster with a beard, wearing a Radiohead t-shirt, sits down in front of us.)Richie: (ironically) Did you go to Radiohead, then?!Hipster: (super-serious) Yes. (In the Dice Bar, a rocking little pub just outside the city centre, the DJ lifts our spirits by playing some Groove Armada.)Me: Maybe he’ll play [our favourite lad’s night out song] Columbia!(He plays the Gypsy Kings.)Richie: Ah, fuck.(He plays some more Latin-flavoured stuff. Richie groans.)Me: I don’t blame him. It’s hard to get people to dance in a bar. Get the girls dancing, that’s the rule. Richie: And the guys.(Points to two guys dance energetically in front of us.)Richie: Look how tight his pants are. He’s wearing girl’s pants. Me: I fear for his balls. (The two guys kiss.)Me: Ah, that’s why. Richie: Okay, now I get it.(And, as two gay men make out passionately to Living La Vida Loca, Richie and I recognise that we have come full circle and take our leave...)!http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3052/2567072409_00cf960fde.jpg?v=0!
Comments (24)
H, Glad to be of hindsightical benefit to you.
B, Leather elbow patches optional.
oh the thought...it's too much.