All My Friends

 

You don’t notice at first, but this is only one shot, and it’s filled with glitter and rain and smoke and mirrors, and it all ends in a shower of sparks. Just like life, I suppose.

Fuck me. Until yesterday at the Hollywood Bowl, I’d forgotten how much I loved, loved, loved LCD Soundsystem deep down in that burning core of a place where I thought there weren’t any more tears left to cry for that last beautiful summer in 2007 when none of us were dead, divorced, or doing time.

God damn, the last few years have been rough.

Where are my friends tonight, indeed?

Coke Talk Of The Day

So yeah. I went to the Chicago concert last night. Some friends had all-access passes, and I had enough morbid curiosity to check it out.

From an anthropological perspective, it was a fascinating evening. The backstage experience felt like a wax museum dedicated to mid-eighties FM radio, and the show itself was like watching my dad’s rotary club perform the world’s greatest karaoke to a room full of five thousand people who voted yes on Prop 8.

I can’t say that the band rocked, because that’s not what they do. Nevertheless, out of respect for my elders, I will say that they played the shit out of their instruments.

They destroyed the room with those soft rock love ballads, no doubt inspiring a wave of viagra-assisted missionary position sex throughout most of Burbank and parts of Pasadena.

It was the very definition of “so bad, it’s good.”

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