Garrett (garote) wrote,
Garrett
garote

Saw Les Claypool and friends. He is amazing with that bass. Also an ensemble act, "Project Object", doing the music of Frank Zappa, with a brilliant drummer, and a very enthusiastic sax player. The furtive stoned Santa Cruz youths were as entertaining as the musicians. During the first opening act, one of them suddenly fell flat on his face, and his buddies had to walk him to the exit for some air.

Just after Les came out, I was approached by an aqualine white girl with a southern accent -- so freshly midwestern that I expected to see corn husks littering her feet. Obviously a first-year UCSC student trying to conquer the town. I think she figured that her gigantic breasts and tiny halter top made her immune from territorial disputes, because she tried to charm her way up to the front of the stage, where we'd all been patiently standing for three hours or more. The short wide mexican kid next to me shook his head "no" when she schmoozed him, and instead of backing off, she tried to elbow past him anyway -- and he shoved her right back. She exploded with foul language, cursing his ancestry, screaming right in his ear. She was so angry her eyes crossed. He just shook his head "no".

She tried to elbow past me instead but I moved up next to the mexican guy, jerked my thumb back, and told the girl: "Two thousand people behind you, and you want to be in front of us too? We've been standing here for three hours!"

She turned away and started muttering to herself about what [expletive] [expletive]s we all were, and remained sullen and angry through the entire show. I had no sympathy for her. She was so confident that her looks would win the day, that I just had to spoil things. Heh.

Les is big with Pink Floyd. The show started with 'One Of These Days', and he played all but the first part of 'Shine On You Crazy Diamond'. The sax player wore a big red suit, and had a mike built into the sax that distorted the sound like an electric guitar. He would adjust the distortion as he played, fading from cool sax to wild guitar as the mood took him.

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Then a seven hour drive home. Sang very loud to 'The Wall' for old times' sake. Wrote a few letters to various folks. Finished 'Snow Crash'. Good book. A very interesting premise, certainly worth writing a story around, despite it's thinness in places. 'Diamond Age' next.

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She wrote me poetry. And it's good poetry -- clear metaphors, efficient language, and worthy concepts. And no pretentiousness -- which is very, very hard to pull off. I am both surprised and enchanted.
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