Continuing Music Education
In the wake of my newly discovered post-mortem fandom of the Dismemberment Plan, I figured, why don't I find out who this Ted Leo character is? My friends gush about him, but I've never bothered to listen to any of his stuff, mostly because I thought I'd always heard him described as kinda folksy, but I think I might be making that up now, cause there was very little folk last night. Last night Paul's boss was trying to get rid of two tickets because he couldn't go, which I tried to help him give away (Paul's never heard of him anyway), but no one grabbed them. Despite my lingering Wednesday night hangover, the week-long lack of proper sleep, and the killer workday I just had, I decided to go. Hey, the tickets were free and hauling my ass the whole three blocks to the 930 isn't so difficult. First I went home and popped in An Inconvenient Truth, which arrived by Netflix the other day, and promptly fell asleep (sorry Al). I haven't finished it yet, but maybe "An Inconvenient Truth" s/b "The Long, Sad Story of Al Gore's Career"? Not that I dislike it, it just seems more like a biography than a documentary on global warming.
I woke up slightly refreshed and met Paul just before 10pm, and Ted was already rocking out. In skinny pants, white tennis shoes and black socks, which was just embarrassing for everyone involved. After a few songs I turned to Paul and said, "Hey, this is pretty good." Paul said, "Yeah, I like this guy, he's got some great old school equipment," in response to which the boy in front of us turned around with the glassy-eyed look of an excited Pavlovian dog, and proceeded to rattle on about Ted's sweet equipment for a good, long...well, I stopped listening, but it was awhile.
That was the strangest thing about the concert - the weird ass fan base. Paul and I went up to the very top bar, only to find ourselves squeezed between half the Sunny Graves Retirement Community who must have chartered a bus and gotten lost on the way to the Kennedy Center, and, for example, the guy in front of us with the O'Neill t-shirt, pumping his fist and the occasional devil horn repeatedly to Ted, and downing Miller Lite's like they were going out of style (er...you know what I mean), and his girlfriend who was freaking me out because she looked exactly like Catherine but was wearing mom jeans and an ill-fitting top from Express' "day to night" collection. Just to make the scene more complicated, after the encore Paul and I hung out at the bar for a few minutes while he finished his beer and suddenly ran into half the people we knew as they exited past us. An Exposed photographer, an old law school friend, it was like we were manning Teddy's receiving line.
Oh, and I got another "You look like someone I know," from Joel's friend. She got really close to me and said, "You look so familiar. Who's your dentist?"
Oh my god! This is why people think they recognize me? Because of my dental work?? This is a terrible, terrible discovery. Ah, but then, "I'm a dental hygienist, so I thought maybe you came to my office." WHEW. Please, the last thing I need is people staring at my teeth, ferchrissake. Anyway, she couldn't place me, probably because she was thinking of someone else, and I said something ass-y like, "Oh you know, I'm around a lot," like I'm just such a scenster that obviously she'd seen me around somewhere at sometime, ha. I am always a class act.
So Ted didn't quite bring it home, I have to say. I enjoyed it at first, and might have to listen to him a bit more, because there were some tunes I liked, but sometimes he'd fall into this awful reggae inspired crap, and he seems to be firmly in the Police camp of "if you repeat it a thousand times, it must be good music," which I vehemently do not subscribe to.
But hey, it was totally great for a free concert on an otherwise Netflix-y Thursday evening.