Showtime #2 - Los Campesinos!

Ah yes, loosely translates or not so loosely as the peasants cuz the English are cheeky fuckers you know and one never knows what to expect in a small to mid size city like the burgh on a Sunday night, i mean you could either get brilliance or birdshit, a crowd that's well up for it or a bunch of hipsters all standing around and nodding their heads as if they are to cool to fucking move a bit, granted i'm getting old and i don't jump around like i used to but every now and then i get a bit active as they say and so i left the house a bit after 8:30 for this gig, a late start by Pittsburgh times but it was once again in a tiny club just blocks from my old house so i was a bit happy to get back to the old hood and enjoy myself...

of course this was the same week after my stellar physical which i wrote about and deleted and was chastised for and it was also the same week as some lovely dental work by my Cadillac of endodontists, a man who makes sure in no uncertain terms that you feel no pain and so he provided me with a pocket full of vicodin ES to go along with my cheap as shit Modelo Especial, cheap AND in cans to boot, cuz nothing says i'm getting fucking drunk in the summer like cans of cheap Mexican beer and so i wandered in and took a seat at the bar while all the kids ate vegan food and i feasted on pills and booze while the downstairs DJ played a swell set of music, the Pixies and Dead Kennedys, the Clash and Fear, and i struck up a conversation with the couple next to me who were swell people, we talked kids and music and parenting though i was the only parent there, discussed how the show had sold out and how lucky we were to see the band in a place that held maybe 100 people, good stuff all around and then they left and i made my way upstairs...

Where i saw one of my favorite gay bartenders who immediately gave me a free drink and then bumped into the movie/video game mogul who at one time wanted to be like my best friend until he financed a certain movie about a certain singer in Manchester who a certain guy we all know named his son after and now that he's all hot shit and wearing $75 t-shirts and hanging out with guys trying really hard to be hip and cool and young (i know this because during the show they were trying really hard to be hip and cool and young and impress their dates by how hip and cool and young acting they were) but what i really like is when the so-called smartest guy in the room can't remember your name and you can tell him his and who many kids he has and what the ages are, though i think he may now be on wife 2 cuz it seems he added to the brood and some of the new ones were quite older... or maybe the first time i met him years ago i was on to much blow to remember, who knows...

Either way the only other thing to worry me was how Gareth, the lead singer was a huge England fan and this was the day that England went out of the Euro's on penalties to the eye-ties, and that he might be bummed or to drunk but my fears were quickly erased as i heard the strains of a familiar tune playing over the PA It's coming home/ it's coming home/ football's coming home/ it's coming home/ it's coming home/ football coming home... a song from 96 i believe written for the English national team and it seemed i may have been the only one in the crowd who got it as i sang along and the people around me stared at me like i was fucking batshit but then the band hit the stage and Gareth launched into a story about how they went down to the local footie pub and bossed the place and got pretty well lit and well hell now it was time to play and then they launched into the first song, By Your Hand, which just happens to be one of Nick Disaster's favorites and i could do nothing but grin from ear to ear while chomping down another pill and guzzling some PBR, (they didn't have Modelo Especial upstairs and i didn't feel like missing any of the show)

and so for a band with a bunch of Welsh guys who support England, the females in the band seemed pretty well basted as well, they ripped into a blistering set in a hot room, the whole time ripping through songs in a fashion that seemed to fit them pretty well, a bit more raw and ragged than on record but not to raw and ragged and it ended up being an excellent gig, another good night out on me Jack Jones and i got to here the track above as well as: Baby i Got the Death Rattle, By Your Hand, Songs About Your Girlfriend, Straight in at the 101(which is brilliant), Hello Sadness, Romance is Boring, Death to Los Campesinos, Letters to Charlotte, There are Listed Buildings and a few other gems all before a rousing finale and the announcement that the band would be down in a bit if anyone cared to hang out and chat...

Oddly enough the place cleared out quick, probably cuz all those hipsters and movie moguls have real jobs and i'm just gonna show up at the Big World Bank Machine and sleep, so i stumbled around for 5 minutes and before you know it the band came back downstairs and i had a fine chat with Sparky who quite liked my shirt and then Gareth came down and i told him how my 3 year old son loved the new album, in particular By Your Hand and Death Rattle and we had a good laugh and he asked his name and i told him Nick Disaster and a quick story about how he got it and he laughed and said next time they came through town they'd get him on the guest list and i said hopefully he'll know how to drive me home by then and we shook hands and i left him to talk to the other few straggling fanboys who wanted a word and off i went into the humid night knowing that i had just had another fine time and with pictures to boot...