Recently, in a galaxy far too close for comfort

Dear reader: if you're not 90000065b, the following passage is probably of absolutely no interest to you.


There are no photos from the Flying Edward gig last night, for they were playing in front of an enormous window, and since this is the land of Norway, it was bright as day behind them and there was much bloody terrible light conditions.

Didn't get any video either, of course.

Hilmar needs to stop tweaking and tweaking and tweaking some old songs, as he has now made "Spell Your Name" fairly awful to listen to. Brief arguing broke out between me and my boyfriend, who thought the gig was mostly horrible. I found only the aforementioned song problematic.

On the bright side, they're using Kyrre much more now. He has a lovely voice which deserves to be heard, and heard it was last night.

~|~

All the non-90000065bs, who are women and can relate or are men with possibly a less than healthy interest in women's underwear, can start reading here:

I've discovered a new and frightening world; the world of lingerie. Whereas some of us (read: me) shop in chain stores for underwear that's made from cotton, is comfy, doesn't ride up and doesn't have scratchy icky lace, some others apparently keep scary little lingerie shops alive.

I have now learned that it's perfectly normal to have strange little old women hooking up your corselet for you, nattering on about their own missing love life and interrogating you on wedding subjects that have nothing to do at all with whether the corselet straps will show under your wedding dress.

I have been scolded for buying the dress before the underwear, see strap problem.

I have also had it confirmed that bra cup sizes are utterly arbitrary. I already knew this well, but I was whipped into a D-cup bra yesterday and very fucking near had a nervous breakdown.

As mentioned earlier, we went to see Th' Legendary Shack Shakers yesterday.

This is the first time ever I've been up at the barrier and been more worried about the singer than about the violent moshing going on behind my back. I have never, ever witnessed such activity onstage. Holy fucking hell. Very energetic band, aside from the aforementioned rabid singer. I'm not actually sure if I think this was a good concert - I certainly had fun, but I noted that a few meters from the stage, people weren't all that enthusiastic.

As to said singer: factor in the spitting, the snot, the almost-stepping on me and the ruffling of my hair (hopefully before he started blowing his nose with his fingers), and I stayed at the barrier for maybe half an hour before making a hasty retreat.

By that time, my knee throbbed. I don't suppose three gigs in four days is entirely recommended for shite joints.

The boyfriend bought a T-shirt, and later discovered that the merch man doubled as bass player (or the other way 'round, if you prefer).


Oh, and happy May 1st, ye prisoners of want.

Dumdum Boys on Thursday were absolutely brilliant. No surprise there - how could the best rock band in Norway (and easily one of the best in the world), playing at what could once again become one of the best venues in Europe, not be brilliant?

There was much grief, though, as Prepple didn't take off his shirt.

But still. It's impossible not to thoroughly enjoy screaming along to Møkkamann, Mitt hjertes trell, Splitter Pine (mandatory) and Metallic hvit. It's impossible not to be impressed that the audience knows the songs from the latest album almost as well as the old hits, and Seig jævel, Lunta brenner, Enhjørning and Takke faen work every bit as well as Dumdum songs should do live. Slave, Idyll (but exactly what did Prepple sing to replace the infamous word in Idyll?) and Hagelangs were all lovely. And, of course, I'm still sniggering because they finished with a Knutsen & Ludvigsen cover.

The annoying thing is that far too many social segments share a love of Dumdum Boys. My eyes almost started bleeding when I spotted a typical "I'm an attorney because my daddy is and now I work in his firm" bloke, wearing a black Dumdum T-shirt over his blue-and-white striped buttondown shirt. Ick.

Being back at Sentrum Scene was wonderful. I wholeheartedly agree with Prepple on how great it is that it's now run as a rock venue instead of a convention hall, by music enthusiasts instead of real estate cynics.


New Model Army tonight. Tee hee.

So.

Anyone up for me raving about seeing Depeche Mode live last night?

Actually, I'm a bit pissed off because I'm short, and terribly many concert-goers weren't, and we were stood to the back. All of this adds up to me not being able to drool as much over Dave Gahan as I wanted to.

They had a honking great backdrop with lots of screens, showing video of the goings-on on the stage, but since this is DM, the video was arted up. It was immensely beautiful, but the close-ups of Gahan grabbing his crotch were way too grainy. Hmph.

Singing along to "Personal Jesus" and "I Feel You" was great - hell, I've daydreamed for years about stretching my hands towards Gahan, howling "Reach out and touch faith".

Martin Gore wore a headdress and wings that made him look like a sinister chicken, but he sang three songs which almost made me ache with love for that odd bloke. Dave Gahan may be sex personified and have a godgiven voice, but Gore becomes larger than life on stage.

They went on really early, twenty minutes after I had fought my way in (bloody idiots with no grasp of queue politeness) and played for almost two hours. Bliss.

I didn't fight my way through to the merch, though, so no chest shots this time either. Tsk tsk. Let's hope there will be T-shirts at the Flying Edward gig tomorrow, but I seriously doubt it. Oi, 90000065b, should I get you one if they have any?

First of all, Seigmen on Friday can be nominated for my Top Ten Best Gigs Ever List. Enthusiastic band, equally enthusiastic (and for bloody once low on the obnoxiusness factor) audience. The singing along on "Döderlein", "Mesusah" and "Hjernen er alene" was the loudest I've heard since Peter Gabriel doing "Biko", and there was about ten times as many people at the Gabriel gig, so...

I recommend such Down Memory Lane concert-going. Dumdum Boys and Raga Rockers coming up.

I can't remember when I last saw Seigmen live - Roskilde some year? Maybe not? Maybe in their hometown before they got big? I am certain I didn't think that Alex Møklebust was particularly hot back then, an opinion greatly amended now (the fucker is a year or two older than me, and looks ten years younger, hate hate hate). Actually, what I remember most vividly is Sverre Økshoff hitting on me on one occasion and me turning him down with my inborn snottiness in full bugger-off-you-prat mode.

For the record, I've always thought that the cover version of "Hjernen er alene" alone justifies Seigmen's existence. It's the darkest, creepiest, most beautiful lyrics ever, and deLillos' bleating original doesn't stand a chance against Alex' voice. It's a bit like 16 Horsepower doing their cover version of "Bad Moon Rising", it's doing justice to a great song.


In other news, I'm reading Wesley Stace's Misfortune and thoroughly enjoying it. There's nothing like quirky stories involving gender bending, bizarre chains of events and benignly insane characters.


Edit: Mostly for tragicsupergirl: this is a recent picture of Alex Møklebust.