The ears have walls

Monday, August 22, 2005

Sonic Yoot.










This picture is from Sonic Youth's gig on 19 August at Marlay Park in Dublin. Here are some of my thoughts from that show:

The sound (apart from the obvious booboo's with Lee's mic during Mote) was fuckin incredible, really something considering it was a big outdoor rig. I fucked my timing up a little because the clock on my phone was slow so was sitting miles away puffin on some chronic when the first drones of Golden Blue started coming out. Needless to say I legged it towards the front of the crowd - and had my life threatened by some coked-up dickhead whose had the misfortune of me standing on his sandalled feet with my size 12 chuck taylors - just in time to hear the first melodic guitar lines of the song. I also badly needed to pee at this point, a fact that was complicated even further by the half litre of tepid budweiser I was tossing down my throat. More about that later. Kim was looking particularly fetching in her babydoll dress, Thurston not so fetching but he's still the man yo. Jim looked my high school geography teacher, and I suddenly remembered what the capital of Ivory Coast was at the exact moment he started noodling on his axe. Go figure. Seconds became minutes and Golden Blue became Stones and then Pattern Recognition as the to-be-expected Nurse material opened the show. Thurston really hit his stride at this point and swung his guitar around by the cord, and eventually climbed down off the stage to mix it up with the lucky people in the front row. He did have some difficulty finding his way back on to the stage, and ended up entangled in the canvas covering at stage left. The hapless guitar tech recovered his still-whining guitar and handed him the next one as they tore into the next song. At the end of this Thurston announced to the crowd that they were gonna play Schizophrenia and things really began to heat up. It was one of the best live versions of that classic song I've ever heard, and Steve's helicopter drumming in the last third brought a tear to my eye. I think I said something like "lord you can take me now.. i'm ready" but thankfully he spared me for the blistering Drunken Butterfly and (technical-problem-blighted) Mote. It was at this point where my bladder really began to become an issue. You know the kind feeling where you can actually feel it throbbing.. you've moved past the simple I-really-need-to-pee part and are now bordering on I-may-need-surgery-if-this-continues part. Bravely, I carried on... each guitar shriek like a hatpin in my lower abdomen. New Hampshire passed without incident and segued into a beautifully chaotic PCH with Kim rockin on on muted lead trumpet. This ended the gig in earnest, although they did come back on (to muted applause it must be added) for a dig at Rain on Tin. Ok. those are my flushed first impressions of a great show, gonzo style. I didn't hang around for much of Chemical Brothers as the idea of battling for space with 18 yr old kids on crystal meth and ecstacy isn't how I like to spend my twilight years. Natch.Out.

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