Forgive me if I don't reply when you call

For I am now deaf.

The WDCH is normally a venue of a whole spectrum of music, but it is quite possible that last night bore witness to its loudest concert to date. The evening started off with loudness from Oakley Hall, a decent band I'm sure, but whose music I was in no mood for. Apart from the general loudness, I don't remember anything about them. The second touring partner, Gillian Welch, didn't suffer from this problem and wowed us with her lyrical brilliance and David Rawling's extraordinary talent on the guitar. So far, she has a 4-disc catalogue, which she has convinced us of our need for. I don't know whether to classify her as folk or country in my music library, but perhaps the terms are synonymous in my lack of understanding of American music

I'm really glad she and David Rawlings have been touring with Bright Eyes, because without them, my night would have been just unbearable. I am not dissing the music of Bright Eyes. I really enjoy Conor Oberst's albums¹, hence the tickets to see his group play. But I really cannot stand music played at such ridiculous volumes. I have no doubt that if the entire audience was tested before and after the performance, a significant loss of hearing would be found in each and every one of us. Why do bands feel this crazy need to "blind" our ears? Deafen as a term does not suffice; if you possess both sight and hearing, imagine your retina being bleached by staring at the midday sun for 2 hours. That's how I felt. In fact, it made me extremely grumpy because I felt as though I had lost one of my senses. Even placing my hands over my ears to dampen the sound did nothing to improve my mood. An enterprising sort of person should be taking advantage of this and selling ear plugs at concerts for those of us who keep forgetting to bring some. (Hmm... Alternative career for me...)

I like the showmanship of Bright Eyes. It's nice to see large egos bring on stage an impressive entourage of a bass player, a second guitarist, a keyboard played, TWO drummers/percussionists, several string players (I think 4) and 2 flautists²³. To top it all, a video artist (dang I can't remember his name) in the projector booth using one of them fancy modern OHPs to provide a video backdrop. Live. Real-time. (Thank goodness that was pointed out to us or I'd have thought the videos were a little shoddily made deliberately. With magic markers.) They were all decked out in white. If they were in the UK, I'd think they were showing solidarity with the junior doctors vs that stupid placement system in the NHS. And the only reason I got my camera out (illegally, according to the usher) was because I swear Conor Oberst is channelling the still-alive spirit of the ELO. Viewed in the context of orchestral swells and all-white attire, even some of the music sounded like the bright pop of the ELO. Only, because I saw the ELO on TOTP on the telly, they didn't DEAFEN ME!

¹It's of no interest to anyone but myself and P, but our first introduction to Conor Oberst was on a BBCThree special, where he was hailed as the saviour of alt rock and proclaimed a genius. What struck me the most was his greasy hair and floppy fringe, through which he played his whole set without looking at anyone. This all just made me think he was some sort of idiot autistic savant, and we had to close our eyes to enjoy the music because we're old farts and cannot stand the sight of greasy hair. Told you it was of no interest to anyone. You shouldn't read my footnotes.

²I don't see the point of having the mini orchestra when all you're going to do is drown it out. It may be ostentatious, but it certainly didn't impress me. What a waste of their talent and time.

³Having checked my programme, I see I counted it all wrong: it was one flautist and one saxophonist. There were two violinists and two cellists. And not bass player: just the multi-talented, multi-instrumented Mike Mogis (guitar, mandolin, banjo, pedal steel, glockenspiel, hammered dulcimer). See, I knew those saved programmes would come in useful one day! But I still can't find the name of the video artist with the magic markers... Sounded like Joey Lin/Lynn/I can't spell anyone's name to save my life.

wincing the night away

from the pain of high-heeled boots

I've been swaying to the lyrical sounds of The Shins at the Orpheum Theatre in Downtown LA.

You know, somebody missed a trick with Downtown LA. It's full of old NY-style high-rises (at least it looks NY-like to somebody who watched Law and Order; for all I know, it's filmed in LA). The pavements are wide. The districts are all within walking distance of each other. So why doesn't anybody hang out there at night? Oh yes. It's because you can't get a coffee for love or money, and the only bar is next to the theatre and does not look particularly enticing. I hear from non-scientists about the fancy and affordable Downtown lofts. But without the amenities and social scene to support it, all you'll be left with is something like Koreatown, where there are people aplenty, but all driving from restaurant to home because it's not safe to walk outside. Missed opportunity, you greedy developers. (Then again, it could be happening. I wouldn't know. It's not safe to walk around Downtown at night...)

Anyhoo. Those were just some thoughts I was ruminating on while idling like a cow in a field on the street outside the theatre waiting for my tickets to turn up. An hour late. Ach. What's an hour to hear one of my current favourite bands? Disappoint me, they did not. Apart from my usual complaints about acoustics (too loud, overly strong base), bottled piss (beer), and the fact that our entire party was split all over the auditorium, I really enjoyed it. (Unlike the last "youngish" concert we went to: the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah gig, where the supporting act, Architecture in Helsinki, was great but the main act was too stoned to impress.)

Tonight, The Shins put on a darn fine show. Not much chit-chatting or horsing around. They just winced my pain away.

And here I present my awful shots of the Orpheum, taken with my hand-me-down Nokia 3230: