Tuesday, December 13, 2005

rock 'n' roadwarrior

One of my favorite concert spots is this place in San Francisco called Cafe Du Nord. It's very small and it's kinda classy looking, but not overtly so. I think it's in the Castro district, which I guess is a predominantly gay area of town, and that's fine. The streets are clean, the people are friendly, and you can walk around at night without worrying about anything, because the criminal element is generally homophobic.

I love cities, but I've become less of a fan of San Francisco. It's situated on what is probably the most beautiful piece of real estate in the United States. The tiny peninsula is perfect for viewing the bay, it's hilly land enclosures and the Pacific Ocean. It's also a very liberal city, which I love, but for a place so liberal, you'd figure it'd take care of its people more. It reminds me of New York City when I was growing up--dirty, angry, poor and full of homeless. I realize you can't help anyone, but the place is also kinda rude in a really snobbish way, which it really shouldn't be because they all just wish they lived in Brooklyn anyway.

I think I'm just hating because once I was at some wannabe schma bar off Van Ness and the people who worked there were real dicks and told us all to go back to New York under their breaths--instead of saying it to our faces like they would in New York. Meanwhile, everyone at our table was California born and bred; I was the only one from New York City, and I'd already been living in California for 3 or more years. Honestly, other than that one incident, I always have a great time in San Francisco. It was the first place I saw when I came out here the first time and it's a part of the reason why I moved out here in the first place. It also has the best taquerias ever, and El Farolito on Mission is one of my favorite places in the universe.

I also always get lost there. It's not really gridded out like other cities. Streets cut and slash all over the place. There's some numbered streets but they always seem to be interrupted by some named streets, and it always throws me off.

I'm just rambling. I went down to San Francisco on Sunday to see Giant Drag at Cafe Du Nord. I was supposed to see them in Orangevale, which is much closer to where I'm at (though still really far away), but that show was cancelled for some reason. I was bummed, figuring I'd missed another chance to see them, but on Friday, I got an e-mail from someone at Interscope telling me that I had tickets to the show in SF, and she was working on getting the photo. I asked around, but no one could go, or no one wanted to. We'd all just gotten through a rough stretch at work and everyone was really beat. Plus, who wants to do six hours worth of driving on a Sunday?

I tried my best to get a photographer in the city to shoot the show, but no dice, and by 4:30pm on Sunday, I thought that it'd be pretty pointless to go down. I mulled it over for a while--I mull everything over for a while--and I had such an itch to go see them, I couldn't sit still. Their album was just so good. So, at literally the last minute, I left--at 5pm. I picked up a camera from one of my bosses and just went, and it felt good. I used to do that kind of shit all the time in New York--just go somewhere for a few hours and come back.

I made great time to the city and I didn't even get lost this time. Even though I really didn't take directions on how to get there. I showed up with 10 minutes to spare before Giant Drag came on; they were playing second, opening for a band called The Like.

Giant Drag was so good. It's a really cozy performance area, and I was standing right up front to take pictures. They all came out sucky, as evident in these cell phone pictures, but I really didn't care. They wore cheesy drugstore antler hats they bought at Walgreens. Micah played drums and synthesizer at the same time, and Annie belted her heart out, played sweet grungy riffs and babbled vulgar stories about semen drinking contests in between songs. I just wanted them to keep playing, but I think they only did about half an hour. It was still worth the long, lonely drive (and the miles worth of fog I had to negotiate once I got into the valley).

I stuck around for The Like, and they were good too--a lot more polished, but a lot less gutsy. I ended up talking to Annie at the merch table after the show. I said they were really good, and I really liked the album like a big dumb fanboy (I am), and she gave me a sticker, even though I didn't buy anything. I thought that talking to these kinda people all the time would stop me from getting starstruck, but I still do every time, for the ones I really like.

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