It’s been a strange week. Zophia and I stayed up past our bedtimes to bask in the presence of greatness, in the form of Neko Case. Though our basking was occasionally interuppted by asshats. One guy repeatedly elbowed me with his drinking arm and blocked my view with his big fat head (note: please do NOT stand directly in front of people who are 5′0″ or under at shows, unless you are even shorter), until I hipchecked him out of my way. And Zophia had some drunk jackass standing next to her who whipped out his cell phone and began shouting gems into it like “I don’t know, is this Neko Case?” and “it’s fucking great!” and “no, no, I’m on the left side of the stage” until he finally left, no doubt in search of his equally inebriated companion. But I digress. When all other distractions were blocked out, the show itself was fabulous. And Ms. Case’s between-songs anecdotes were nearly as entertaining as her music. Driving home afterwards I was treated to quite the lightning display, which was just the pre-show entertainment for a killer storm that would take down many trees and tree branches, and knock out power to a good chunk of Twin Cities area residents. Little did I know that the lightning would strike a tranformer near my office…nor did I find out until I arrived yesterday morning, to find the building dimly lit and full of stale air. I beat a hasty retreat (and what transpired afterwards shall forever be known as the Blackout Day Field Trip).
Today I may seem more death-obsessed and morbidly-inclined than usual…but I still haven’t seen Six Feet Under, though I’ve managed to hear The Arcade Fire’s Cold Wind, which was exclusively written and recorded for the show. And I can’t stop listening to it.
Checking in at Gapers Block yesterday I was saddened…to see that Alicia Frantz was killed, while riding her bike to work last Friday, on her 32nd birthday no less. I didn’t know her, and I’d only stopped by her site now and then, but this struck a nerve. She was born just 22 days before I was. And lived in a nearby, though larger, Midwestern city. Where I am very visually obsessive, she was an amazingly aural sonic documentarian. I think Mimi Smartpants put it best with “she was talented and funny and cute and interesting and obviously a good friend to have.” My thoughts go out to her friends and family.
Now on to something else, sorta moody, but not so grim…we’ll call ‘The Value of Dystopian Science Fiction‘. I first spotted this via Luxomedia. It looks like some wildly creative and imaginative folks in Nantes, France held a 3-day festival, in honor of the 100th anniversary of Jules Verne’s death. This celebration began with “a jaw-dropping fantasy morning involving wooden space probes, a giant water squirting elephant, and a huge girl on a scooter who visited the mayor at his office and made pee.” How amazingly weird and wonderful. More details here. And more photos on flickr, of course.
The Minnesota Museum of American Art is kicking off its summertime patio nights series tonight, with a performance by Superhopper, with Monarques and Look Down. A friend’s band played that same patio last summer, and it was magical, all hidden away, tucked back behind the museum…but overlooking the Mississippi. Sadly showers are possible by evening. Figures.
Bonus: We all know there are now too many blogs to shake a stick at, but I’ve just found Seattle-based blogs that I have been enjoying. I Make Things and Pop Astronaut.
Plus: Well whadya know…Chuck really is the devil who controls the blogosphere. Crazy.
