Whatever People Say I Am...

Since I am clearly the cultural hub of the universe, discussion today will be of what I did last night. Almost one hundred percent of what I did was illegal, yet the chances that anyone reading this will give a shit are so close to zero as to be unimportant (hope the audience doesn't include my probation officer, then).

Last night, I saw the Arctic Monkeys. And it was sweet.

I borrowed a car to get there, obviously, as the show was in Columbus and I am, alas, stuck in Athens. The reason I don't have a car is primarily the fact that I don't have a license. And the reason I don't have a license is because I'm a dangerous pot-smoker (who never got busted anywhere near a motor vehicle. Hmmm...). So would it be irony that I both drove and toked the whole way to Columbus? I'm not sure.

Now, before we get people mad for my "reckless driving," it's important to realize that most people drive better stoned. There are myriad reasons for this, but one of the best is simply the fact that stoners are in less of a hurry to get places. If I'm high and driving, I'm probably going 55 in the 60 with the stereo at close to max. I like driving anyway, and going a little slower means I'll be driving more *and* I'll get to hear more songs. Also, people drive better when they're smoking because if they get pulled over, they'll be royally fucked. So it's best not to give the cops any reason to tag you.

Anyway, I was driving up to Columbus listening to Of Montreal ("Disconnect the Dots," "Your Magic Is Working," "My British Tour Diary," and "Rapture Rapes the Muses" in particular) until I decided that it would be wise to get psyched up, and thus put on Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not. Which, of course, rocked ("But his bird said it's amazing though, so all that's left/Is the proof that love's not only blind, but deaf"). It really is a great album, though I wish I'd had Favorite Worst Nightmare with me at the time.

Still.

So I got there, blazed a touch more, then rolled out to what was a ridiculously long line (that didn't really work out for some people. I was waaay at the back of the line and managed to get tossed up to right behind that knot of folks at the front, the ones who showed up three hours before the doors opened and latched themselves firmly on the bar). After waiting an additional fifteen minutes after the doors were supposed to open, we filed in.

I proceeded to down a Long Island Iced Tea on an empty stomach (did I eat anything yesterday? Yes. I remember now. There was Wendy's. But that was quite late). Now what to do? I'm a bit drunk and a bit high and nothing is happening until the opening act (which was NOT The Coral, like the posters said. I think the name of the band was "Voxtrot," and they were acceptable).

Anywho, eventually (9:15) the Arctic Monkeys took the stage. Besides the fact that Alex Turner looked like he was even more bored than I've been of late, the show rocked exceptionally hard. There wasn't a lot of variation, they weren't really engaging with the audience, but who gives a shit? We were rocking the fuck out. And I think everyone was satisfied with that arrangement.

They played for almost seventy-five minutes, which was excellent, as there were essentially no breaks and they only have two albums (plus EPs). There was a whole group of British people who kept breaking into song and whatnot before the show. And that was amusing. Oh! And I demoed Rock Band on my way out. Which was cool, but I like the Guitar Hero controller better. (Game companies, please take note:) The guy showing it off missed the point when he told me that Rock Band was "harder than Guitar Hero". I don't care if it's "harder". I simply want it to be "fun".

Then I drove home. And blazed, and rocked out. Honestly, all things considered, one of the best days of my life, if for no other reasons than because I listened to nothing but good music all day, I felt good all day (chemically altered and otherwise), and I had my face rocked off.