The Swell Season, Wiltern
Swell Season (Frames + Markéta) | Martha Wainwright
10 November 2007
Koreatown, Los Angeles
Martha is finishing up. She sounds good. She drops F-bombs. I’m in somewhat of a sour mood which is atypical. F-bombs are always good, but when I am in a foul mood they are particularly good. F-yeah, Martha. Right F-ing there with you. F!
Every single txtmsg I have blackberried to the big screen has been shunned, with extreme prejudice, across the board. I do not care for these gatekeepers. They keep padding the messages and repeating the obviously fake ones. The best message I have seen reads “Pam from The Office is here!!!”
I begin txting messages directed at the gatekeepers personally. None of these messages contain F-bombs and yet I do not expect these to fly, either. Some asshole with a running joke about losing a contact lens is hogging all the glory on screen. Again, my mood somewhat foul, probably a funny joke any other time.
Glen Hansard takes stage with crew. If you’re familiar with Frames, you basically get the idea – think Damien Rice Light. That’s pretty damn light. Irish, strings, heartfelt, lyrics about holding hands and what-have-you. Uber touchy-feely; quite adept at the genre. Glen talks too much. When he sings he almost sounds like Cat Stevens once or twice. A nice change: The audience is actually quiet, with the exception of the bartender in the northeast corner who, though amiable, is loud as fuck and probably not aware of it. I gather some data for the great Losanjealous live venue drinking project at bars throughout the venue.
At what point in 2007 did the “LG” get dropped from the Wiltern?
Swell Season. Swell Season. What’s so damn swell about it, and what’s the season? I had a swell season last month. Strep Throat. Thought the tonsils were going to fucking pop they were so big. Make it the Swoll Season then. These guys are perfectly fine; my mood is not. Possibly I’ve had too much to drink and not enough to eat.
Not actually sure if concert has ended, but we are now at a Korean BBQ joint on Second; namely, Gui Rim. Jesus. No wonder I was so surly. I was starving! Shot of Hite and a few shaves of bulgogi frosted with toxic garlic paste; I’m a new man. Server throws a couple of jumbo prawns into the rotation, on the house. To the eye they look barbaric and vicious, but oh so incredibly fun to cook and eat. What’s next on the agenda? Tonight, none of your business. Tomorrow we go see the Walkmen @ Troub to balance the scale.