People turned out in force for Parquet Courts and The Men last night - The Garage was about 50% busier than I've ever seen it. This could have been due to the bands themselves, but I like to think it's because The Garage has ditched its Carlsberg-or-Tuborg-or-nothing beer selection, probably as a result of HMV's dire straights. Every cloud and all that...
Gig Buddy tells me Parquet Courts got equal billing with The Men for this gig. How can I illustrate how unjustified that would be?
Imagine watching the film of your life story, and finding out the director has given equal amounts of time to the day some guy turned up to read your gas meter, and the day that escort knocked on your door wearing nothing but a trench coat and lingerie, having mistaken your flat for Mr Lawrence's, whose wife was staying with her sister for the weekend. That should give you an idea.
Apparently, The Quietus and Pitchfork were in agreement on how good Parquet Courts' album is. In fairness, so is Gig Buddy, who insisted on giving me one of his download codes. I haven't used it yet, so I can talk about is seeing the band live, which was like watching librarians agreeing to color-code their clipboards and thermoses taupe this year instead of mauve. Not thrilling.
The Men, on the other hand, exploded out of the blocks as if intent on expunging all traces of their predecessors from memory – and, aside from what little I've recounted above, they succeeded.
I can't recall ever having seen a band give it so much for such a sustained period before. It was like they'd just found out they were all to be executed at dawn, and so they'd come out one last time in order to fuck the universe dry before shaking hands with destiny. The impressive buggers.
P.S.
I've just realised The Men were the first band I blogged about, just over a year ago. Aww.
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