Sometimes when your bud ditches you to go on a “couples camping trip” you just have to take it in stride. We’re all familiar with the guilt trip so you might as well save it for when you can do something funny like mention it in an article, and let him go enjoy himself in the woods while you are busy being a baby about it. You need to remember how much fun it can be to do your own thing. It’s difficult I know, because I’m sure you’re the best and you never get the chance to hang with you. But compared to the amount of time I spend at a medical oxygen supply office, travelling north of Sunnyside is an exciting adventure!
Are you familiar with the benefits of “partying with yourself”? First of all, I get tired standing up (at shows). I just want to be honest. I don’t have any friends who feel the same because they’re all so much fun. When you sit down at a show with a friend there’s this pressure of like “are we getting the most out of this?” I don’t get the whole “I paid for this ticket so I better enjoy the hell out of myself”. That takes away the pressure, so whence I arrive you can find me on the best sofa closest to the stage with a beer I spent a leisurely amount of time choosing. This is my first time at The Gateway or the SAIT campus in general. But I’m flyin’ high so I don’t even get upset no one let me know in advance this is a frosh event.
I feel kind of sad at first for the band on stage because I think it's possible that everyone standing ten meters from the music are all 18. They sway with this kind of bashful hesitancy, like they are flirting with the idea of having a really good night but aren’t sure because they haven't "found themselves" yet.
The boys on stage are giving us a slow heavy bass drum, and what is most memorable is the space that slooow beat makes. You can really dip into a beat like that. The lights heat up and the bassist with the Weekend at Bernie's hat has this falsetto- his voice is the furthest thing from intimidating. Now we are kind of swaying a bit more-- collectively. They are pretty charming I guess and we are agreeing to move- not to fully dance yet-- but to pulse. The only good dancer kind of ruins it for me and yells:
"Who are you?"
No man, who are you? But honestly he's so happy no one can fault him.
“We’re called Poolside.” Right away I think of all my faraway best friends who are probably hopping fences to swim-- right now.
I feel very glad for what some are calling an R&B revival. The Weeknd and Frank Ocean are two artists who have shored up on that long abandoned rhythm and blues island. Typically R&B deals with such topics as love making, and also sexing. The new R&B revival sings about drugs a lot as well as love making. This makes them appear kind of dark and tortured, so there’s something in there for everyone!
I’m sharing this sofa beside the stage with a middle-aged couple who patted the seat with a “come hither” vibe. When Poolside are finished their set I feel cool with leaving my fav jacket on our sofa while I go for a jaunt (beer).
So, everyone gets excited for a band for different reasons. Maybe you’ve heard just a couple songs on the radio, or you learned about them in a movie soundtrack. Specifically, I am overfamiliar with Twin Shadow’s first album (Forget) and first video (Slow) because I didn’t have much else in the car when I drove from Halifax to Toronto. I was pretty in love then too, so you can bet your ass I am now texting that handsome blonde memory to let him know I’m thinkin’ bout him and listening to our old jams.
Having a photographic memory means I remember outfits more than song lyrics for example. And, as my notes are incoherent, (i.e.: “How come all the first years aren’t doing it, they’ll never be better looking than this?), what remains is my memory of the atmosphere. When Twin Shadow played on Friday there was a lot of fog surrounding them (dry ice). At The Gateway there is enough space to look up at these beautiful haunted musicians from almost anywhere in the room. There is no longer a gap between crowd and stage, excited cherubs who know all the words pile in close.
Now, when you are partying with yourself, you’ve got enough time to have some big thinks. So I decide when I see a band, and they are really doing it, really playing this feeling good stuff — I always kind of imagine they are doing something a lot bigger. Like maybe they are steering a ship and we’re all ready to swab the deck. They’re sharing songs or nights or lots of feelings with us, and we’re being pretty cool about it when we in the crowd say thanks by singing along, and dancing until we’re sweaty and our shoe breaks. Bands make their money from selling their merch, so okay yeah it’s great to buy a shirt — but turning into this huge collective sea, carrying a whole handful of shiny tattooed Jonahs away from The Whale of a boring life. These guys want to sing for us but they’re never 100 per cent sure if we want them. That night I was really smiling and dancing on the sofa from the torso up, and because I am a true free woman I’m yelling “we want you too.”