Officially Changing The Name To "Jack Gets Angry About Opening Bands And Other Blogs"

Damn me and my instinctual hopes that an opening band will ever be good. I went to go see Ted Leo and the Pharmacists at The Metra last night and hoped that the opening bands would at least be palpable. Palpable they were not. They weren't even servicable. The shit-doctors this evening were The Tossers, and two other bands I found too worthless to even bother remembering the names to. I don't know if you've ever heard of The Tossers, but some people in the audience apparently knew the words to the songs, which suggests not only that they have at least a moderate following, but also that a lot of people suck. They were wanna-be's, in the most literal sense of the term. They really, really wanted to be. They, as a band, wanted to be Flogging Molly. The flautist wanted to be a valid and respected member of the band. The singer really wanted people to find his endless solos to be powerful, and for the audience to give a fuck when he sang "fuck". They really wanted to be Irish. The fiddlist really wanted to be the cute token woman of the group. The drummer really wanted people to say his playing was totally hardcore after the show. The bassist really wanted people to recognize the fact that he had a red six-string bass that was not justified by his playing abilities, and that he can kick in the air. Their Pabst Blue Ribbons really wanted to be Killians. Everything about them just screamed Flogging Molly carbon copy. All their songs sounded like Flogging Molly songs, often times resulting in my questioning of if they were doing a cover. The audience was even remarkably second-rate in this vein. I don't know how you can fuck up a mosh pit, but it happened. Even if you don't know the techniques or the ettiquite, or the terminology, which is vitally important, you should at least realize that the concept is to run into each other. It's really not a difficult premise. The crowd ran around for 1 second, long enough to create space for them to do their thing, and then stopped. The entire pit was how most pits I've been in look like during the slow songs or when everyone is collectively tired. The fans really wanted to be as well, trying exceptionally hard to feign interest in this exceptionally mediocre knock-off group. The other bands were also not very good at all, but these guys especially got to me because everyone else liked them. Even Ted Leo himself made it a point to express his happiness in the fact that he is touring with them. I had the theory that he asked them along for the tour to make himself sound better afterwards. I would have lost respect for Ted Leo after this, if he didn't rock so damn hard, sign my inch long piece of paper I found in my wallet, and play "Suspect Device" by Stiff Little Fingers. All the opening bands I've seen simply make the headliner have to try harder to make me leave happy. One of these days it'll simply break and a band I used to like will not rock hard enough to make up for the shitty opening bands and it'll be curtains. Curtains, I say.

And, yes, I'm still here. I simply haven't had anything particularly interesting to write about lately. I'm not going to turn into one of those blogs that post about things that I've done during the day. You wouldn't want to read that.

-Monday: Slept.
-Tuesday: Slept.
-Wednesday: Slept. Played "Legend of Zelda". Slept.
-Thursday: Slept. Saw Ted Leo. Smoked. Slept.
-Friday: Don't remember, but one could bet good money on my sleeping.

Yeah. Awesome. Plus I can't post about how I haven't posted yet. You all know I haven't posted yet, and giving you an explanation is breaking one of the rules. If I tried to post when I had nothing to say, this'd turn into every other blog even faster than it already is. So be patient, all. I'll post when something I have something to say.

Word.