Had a post-work work function this evening, which lasted until 8:15 or so. I boarded the 7 train and took that and the B61 bus to get home, where I changed out of my quasi-formal work clothes into something more comfortable/rock show friendly. Called Pianos: “Is tonight’s show sold out?” No, I was told. At just after nine, I left my apartment and made it to Manhattan in around half an hour, arriving at the club in question at 9:40 to see the debut of Bling Kong.
Except that by the time I arrived inside, the show had sold out. No, really. First show ever. I feel kinda proud of the fellas and ladies now, five hours later. At the time, though, I was cursing the wrathful hand of fate (okay – my language did get a bit overblown) .
So at this point, R.F. and I were standing in the back of the bar grumbling about arriving too late to get in. One of the many Bling Kong-associated folks (there are around a dozen altogether) grabbed both of us – I was told to tell the fellow working the door that I was someone else (someone else who wasn’t likely to show up); said person had a plus one. Things seemed to be improving.
Got to the door. “I’m on the list with a plus one,” said I. “The name’s [a name which is not mine].”
The door guy found the name and waved us both through. At which point, I was recognized by some other folks whose attempts to enter had been stymied. “Toby!” I heard. “How’d you get in?”
I looked straight ahead, tried to put my best “Toby? I know not this ‘Toby'” face, and walked in, resolving to explain myself later.
What do Bling Kong sound like?
1. The quick version: “Like Big Black crossed with a pep rally”.
2. The elaborate version:
“Here’s the pitch, Bob. Let’s say Le Tigre go out on tour with Andrew W.K. One night, Kathleen Hanna and Andrew get smashed and, well, hook up. Fifteen years later, they’re married in the suburbs with a bunch of fresh-faced kids. And those kids decide to put a band together.”
It’s kind of like that.
I’m curious to hear the proper CD; for Bling Kong, the live experience is — well, kind of overwhelming. Four cheerleaders, crazy video projections, bananas thrown into the audience…
It was a fine night.
It’s 3:04 AM right now, and I have work tomorrow. The Mountain Goats’ Tallahassee is on the headphones right now, and sleep seems like an incrementally better idea with each passing moment.