Originally posted 9/15/05

Well, another birthday has come and gone and another step closer to who knows what. Yesterday I had to work. No big deal, seeing as how I didn't actually do anything really constructive except in the morning. The rest of the day was spent daydreaming of a year gone by. I usually don't like birthdays. Too much unwanted attention. People who aren't part of your world sending token well wishes of a happy day. It just seems forced and unnatural. But I digress.

Last week a friend of mine called me and asked me if I was going to the Interpol show on the 14th? Well being so busy with other things, I had no idea they were even coming. "Where is it?", I asked. "Freeborn Hall in Davis", he replied. I cringed in my chair after hearing him say that. Freeborn Hall is really nothing more than a college gymnasium. The acoustics are always called into question. There is also no seating. Can these concert veteran legs withstand two hours of sardine-packed standing? Can I listen to pseudo-intellectuals talk about how cool Weezer is while waiting in line? I decided to brave the posers, radio whores and rich suburban kiddies driving mommy's SUV and catch the Ian Curtis & Co. sequel. What could possibly go wrong?

If you haven't heard of Interpol yet, then stop reading this and pick up the latest from My Chemical Romance or the Killers because you aren't ready to appreciate how tight this band actually is. For you hipsters, I am using the term "tight" in regards to their musicianship not how cool they are. Now the band have said that they are unaware of the Joy Division similarities, but one cannot deny it's there in spades. This is not a bad thing. They do much better job at it than NIN ever could. Note: Trent, whatever you do please do not cover another Joy Division song ever again. The opening band was an instrumental band called Bim Boop or Bop something or other. Minimalistic in nature and the only saving grace was the drummer. The keyboard player was more interested in his beverage. While the guitarist had serious popping issues with his equipment. There's nothing like having your eardrums burst at the sound of electronic popcorn sounds every three seconds.

After that fiasco, Missy and my friend Mike decided that was all they could take. With the crowd of about a thousand pushing in tighter; swallowing any unused space, they both made their way to the back leaving George and myself to fend for ourselves. Our small army now down to two. Interpol walked out onto a smoke filled stage and went directly into Next Exit. Not one of my favorite songs of theirs, but a nice way to ease into the gig. The next few songs; all from the current album, sounded amazingly well in Freeborn "Hell". "Not Even Jail" and "Length of Love" were two standouts from Antics. Guitars building to a deafening pitch, as the bass thumped in your chest. All the while the drums were constantly banging out a heartbeat the entire venue could sense and feel as their own. I really enjoyed the songs from the first album, since that is the better album in my opinion. A bit more raw and unpolished, it just seems to hit that much harder blaring at you from a wall of speakers.

There were a few things that did make me want to pull my hair out. The number one being that Sacramento crowds suck. They are uninspired, boring and uneducated about their music. A select few in the crowd were channeling the energy pouring off of the stage. But mostly, the masses stood rigidly in place waiting for god knows what. Another thing that drove me nuts was the premature applause. Interpol is one of those bands that have small breaks and quieter bits in their songs which then build to a crescendo of emotion barrelling like a Mack truck straight towards you at 100 miles per hour. Most of these imbeciles had no clue of the songs themselves, and started hooting and clapping during these breaks; thereby destroying the feeling of anticipation and calm before the storm. Another note is the no camera rule. This archaic enforcement (which isn't enforced at all) should be buried. With cameras so thin as well as phones being able to take photos now, it doesn't make any sense. The camera phone has taken the place of the cigarette lighter at shows in this age of technology. Let people snap away. Most people only want the pictures for themselves anyway. Or for blogging purposes. Hell, that's where my pics are from. My little crappy phone. A digital remembrance of the night's events.

All in all the show was fantastic. Definitely a band worth seeing live. As the show ended in a wall of feedback, I left the venue with a bounce in my step so high even the tinnitus in my ears couldn't dampen my spirits. And to the girl who spent the entire show on the phone talking about nothing......Fuck you!

September 15, 10:30 pm