Evening escapes

Ten years ago, when J and I were living in Melbourne, I got my hands on a CD by a Scottish band that happened to be on tour in town. I immediately fell in love with the album, but sadly missed out on the chance to see that band live. As the years went by, that album - along with subsequent ones - have been on high rotation in our home and for road trips. This band is Franz Ferdinand, and they make music that is the perfect blend of pop, new-wave and rock, and guaranteed to get me dancing.

A couple of months ago, J heard that Franz Ferdinand would be doing a gig in Seattle, so on a whim, he booked tickets and I booked a babysitter. To be honest, I was a little blasé about the date circled on our calendar. I thought it'd be a nice enough night out, and knew the music would be great, but I had little expectations. I hadn't listened to Franz Ferdinand for a while, and wasn't particularly hyped.

Well.

Ever since that night in April, I've been meaning to write a post here about the awesomeness of seeing Franz Ferdinand, but every time I start thinking about it, I simply don't have the words. My mind? Was blown.

Everything about the night's performance was so tight, so perfect, so spot-on, that I knew halfway into the first song that I was experiencing the best live gig I'd ever been to... and not to brag, but I've seen some pretty amazing live performances over the years. I have nothing but superlatives for Franz Ferdinand. When I need to go to a happy place now, all I have to do is close my eyes, recall one of their songs, and I'm back in that darkened venue. Catchy guitar riffs, beats that groove down to your tippy toes and bounce into your heart, and a captivated crowd (at one point during a split-second pause in one of the songs, a guy yelled out "I LOVE YOU, MAN!", and without missing a beat, Alex Kapranos pointed back to him "And I love YOU!" with perfect showmanship and utter sincerity... maybe you had to be there).

And that's all I can write here about the joy of Franz Ferdinand live, because no words of mine will do justice. If you get the chance to see them perform? Just do it.

We finished the show with a couple of drinks in a dive bar across the road from the venue. It turns out that bars with floors that are covered in peanut shells don't exist solely in American movies and TV shows. We were given a fresh bowl of peanuts and I was more than a little perplexed with where to dispose of the shells, until J pointed out the floor. Um, ok then. It felt wrong, and I realised I might be a little too old for those places now. Anyhow, I chalked it up to one more 'uniquely' American experience to add to my notched belt.

As if that night out wasn't enough to keep me happy, we celebrated our wedding anniversary one week later. May Day also happened to be the warmest day in Seattle so far this year, so it was with happiness that we waved goodbye to the girls and their babysitter, I tottered into the car - dresses and heels are not my thing except for the rarest occasions - and we made our way to a waterside restaurant on the southern end of Lake Union. I had sterling company (of course), views of a busy waterway that everybody appeared to making the most of, and I devoured salmon, salmon, and more salmon.

If I haven't mentioned it before, I love salmon and will eat it in any and all of the ways it can be eaten.  Sushi, poké, smoked, grilled... I'll eat it all. So, if you love salmon as much as I do, and find yourself in Seattle one day, with a need for water views and city skylines, then I suggest Ivar's Salmon House. I'm already trying to think of an excuse for us all to have brunch there this summer. My parents will be visiting, so I think that's a good enough reason, right?

'92 Vintage

Like a lot of people my age, I spent a lot of time listening to The Cure when I was younger. 

On a whim the other day, I pulled out their Wish album. Sometimes, there's nothing like listening to that album and feeling the intensity of being sixteen all over again. In particular, From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea. It's probably my favourite song of theirs, and twenty years later, I can still listen to it repeatedly. Everything about that song is perfect - the soaring music, the painful lyrics. It gets me every single time. Musical taste is a subjective affair, but I can't imagine how any person with a beating heart could not love this song.

Ah, but I still have so many other Cure songs that I love to revisit from time to time.

If I had to pick a single year that represents my youth, and sparked a love for the bands I still listen to today, it would be 1992. That year began with me heavily into U2, but before long I found myself completely immersed in Nirvana, Pearl Jam (a reason why Seattle has been on my radar for such a long time - although I never imagined I'd be living there one day), Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Smashing Pumpkins, R.E.M. and The Cure.

I like to think that - back in the day - I rocked the floral baby doll dresses or long flowing skirts, paired with either Doc Marten boots or Converse chucks, along with the best of them. I never went goth but my father used to delight in teasing me, telling me I looked "like a Greek widow". Instead, the grunge style had my full attention as a teenager, and I'm starting to see teenagers and students wearing green hair and Converse again, in the true twenty-year recycle of trends. That is what makes me feel old... 

Outings

Do you remember going to music gigs when you were younger? Losing yourself in the music, not really taking much in apart from the music, but maybe once in a while you'd catch a glimpse of a couple.

This couple might have been a little older than most of the other punters, and the woman probably had a lot less flesh on display than the younger, tighter versions in the crowd. This couple was probably clutching a few drinks, but not going crazy with it. They definitely didn't have racing heartbeats, sweaty palms or massive adrenal rushes from various illegal substances. Instead, this couple was avoiding the epicentre of the crowd, and simply appreciating the novelty of being out on the town for a night, and a chance to hear some fun new music. What the kids are listening to today.

I never really paid any attention to that couple when I was younger, but now I realise: they were probably parents of young children, making a rare grab for a few hours of freedom on a date night, while a babysitter dozes on their couch.

I had this realisation about that couple on Friday night because J and I were that couple. On a whim a few weeks earlier, we bought some cheap tickets to a gig, figuring if we couldn't line up a sitter, it wasn't much money spent anyway. We've been in L.A. for two and a half years, and still hadn't seen any live music here. How crazy is that? Los Angeles is de rigueur for bands on tour, right? There have been plenty of missed opportunities here, but not due to laziness; more a case of not realising a band was in town until it was too late. We made a resolve last month that we would go and see some music real soon, dammit.

The chosen gig was an electronic act known as Com Truise. I know... I still read it as Tom Cruise, and I guess that was this guy's intention. His music style is a little like Boards of Canada. Anyhow, J recently discovered him and is the big fan in our home, but I was happy to go along.

On our way into town, we drove along and listened to the soundtrack from Drive. The sun had already set, but that didn't stop J from trying to channel his inner Ryan Gosling. He's watched the film a few times and is rather taken with it. Me, not so much. The Ryan Gosling factor wasn't enough to overcome the confusing mess of the film's grim goriness. I normally like a bit of noir, but Drive didn't do it for me.

We started off with dinner and cocktails at an amazing restaurant called Mess Hall, in Los Feliz. Totally recommend it to anyone wanting some American-style food with actual real flavour. I devoured a banana cream pie that I wanted to bury my face in, and - two days later - I'm still lusting after the memory of the smoked corn fritters we had to start with. So. Much. Flavour. It almost hurt.

After that, we made our way to Silverlake for coffee, where we pretended to be hipsters. Well, sort of... when we weren't laughing at how contrived some of the people around us were. Really, I kind of feel sorry for Generation Yers - so many of them feel the need to try so hard. Anyhow, it was worth it for the decent coffee.

Last stop for us was the Echoplex in Echo Lake. The opening acts didn't start until after ten, but the first one came on with a resounding wallop. Bonde do Role. They were an electronic funk/dance act from Brazil and I can't remember the last time I experienced energy with that kind of force. Some of their songs reminded me of M.I.A. (who I like) and I don't think words could do justice. Think grotesquely exaggerated sexual moves on stage. Think limbo pole brought down into the crowd for a song. Think Sponge Bob look-a-like piñata tossed into the crowd, donning jocks with a banana shoved down the front. It was pretty crazy.

Next up was a chilled duo called Poolside. They're described as daytime disco and were perfect to listen to while we sat down and had another drink. They're a local band and my favourite was their version of Neil Young's Harvest Moon - daytime disco style. I'm serious! Plenty of people have tried to put their own stamp on that song, but these guys did a great job.

A sign of getting old is fretting when you realise it's close to midnight, and - dammit - you're still waiting to see the main act. It was worth the wait, though. Something you may not know about me is that I'm a sucker for some loud, throbbing electronic bass. I really am. Bass that rattles every bone in your body and vibrates through you as though you're being zipped and unzipped in your sternum. I love it.

I used to think this enjoyment was purely a result of chemical substances consumed in my younger days, but I haven't been part of that scene in for the best part of a decade - nor does it even appeal to me these days, but I have no regrets. It had been a while since I last experienced bass of that calibre (car stereos just don't cut it, right?) but ultimately, I lapped it up. I didn't feel the need to dance up a storm; I was happy just listening and bouncing.

It was a lot of fun, and I'd forgotten how much I also love people-watching at these kinds of events. That night has left me determined to catch more gigs, so now I just need to start paying attention to who's in town, and when.

Next stop for date night night, though? Tomorrow, when we head to a crew wrap party and premiere for Rise of the Guardians. Instead of getting taxis in, a group of us are going in on a stretch limo for a laugh. Stay tuned....

Hurt

Once every now and then - not often enough - I stumble across a song which, in turn, steals my breath. When this happens, I want to freeze that moment of hearing it for the first time.

Last week, I was driving along a road which passes through the Verdugo Mountains. It was late afternoon, and golden sunlight was bursting into the car. The girls in the back were - for once - silent, worn out from a group play date. The radio was on and as the next song began, I recognised Johnny Cash's voice. The music was melodic; his voice was haunting.

As I followed the road's gentle bends, I absorbed the song. I didn't want it to end... and as soon as we got home, I hit up the internet to see what song it was.

Somehow, this song had escaped my radar when it was released - but being in my selfish mid-twenties at the time, I didn't have such an appreciation for Johnny Cash.

I sure as hell do now, though, and I present to you, Hurt.

If anyone could do justice to a cover of a Nine Inch Nails song, he was the man.