What a long, long day I had Sunday. If you haven't heard, Deerhunter, Dan Deacon and No Age had just started their round robin tour and that Sunday they were to play the Jelly Pool Parties in the Hipster Capital for free at the East River State Park. Well, a little thing called persistent rain happened and it created a bit of logistical nightmare for the concert organizers.
Yes, that is Bradford Cox of Deerhunter looking like Nosferatu. Him and Randy Randall of No Age shook the fans' hands and gave them thanks, as we braved it out in the rain. Personally, as I stood their, making nice with some nice folks from Middletown, CT, I turn and I see Bradford. Bradford Cox is one of my favorite musician's out there, and when I saw him shaking hands, I broke into an excited smile and gladly chirped out his name. It easily brought up my spirits.
The orginaizers moved the show to the aestically pleasing Brooklyn Bowl on Wythe and 11th (or 12th?). The doors were supposed to open at 6pm, but it really opened at 7, so 4 hours of waiting happened and while it may have been tedious, it was still somewhat enjoyable, meeting new people talking about our towns, and even Pokemon (I brought my Gameboy Color, to occupy myself). Another one my fantasies was to have one of the members of No Age notice my Abe Vigoda shirt (for those noobs who don't know, No Age and Abe Vigoda are members of the The Smell scene in Los Angeles). Randy Randall noticed my shirt and gave me a look of approval! My plans were coming into fruition.
Now for some photos of the area:
Dickchicken on the back of the Brooklyn Bar.
A"Hipsters Suck" Graffiti, brilliantly located in the heart of Williamsburg, and possibly written by a Hipster, cause only a hipster would be so deft to actually write something like that and then secretly gloat about his hip brilliance behind his or hers hipster friends' back. But I digress...
O hai! Some cute graffiti I spotted.
A cool looking warehouse across the street.
The line of people, wanting to see the good fucking jams.
That is Infinite Body, an ambient musician. He is spazzing out. I thought he was going to throw up at one point. Also, he had a ShamWow-esque mic on him. He may be a nice dude, but he kind of pissed people off to be honest.
White Rainbow, another ambient act, but pleased crowd.
This is Ed Schafer. He was insane. In both ways. The crowd loved his rambling Charles Mansonesque songs.
Dan Deacon approves.
And now a little interlude with the crowd singing The Proclaimers' "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)".
And now onto the main attraction!
That be part of Deerhunter, and the one and only Dan Deacon.
And Cali's golden boys Dean Spunt (drums) and Randy Randall of No Age.
The opened up with Deerhunter's "Cryptograms", and the minute the bands start rocking out, anarchy ensued. People shifted into each other, putting pressure on one another. We were all so happy to see the bands we want to see. We went berserk for every song.
Lockett Pundt of Deerhunter
Insert Andy Samberg joke here.
The moshing, surfing and stage diving occured for an hour or so, until Dan Deacon decided to chill things out with some interpetive dancing and touching people's heads.
We were told to think of that special person as we touched other people's head. I wonder what that chick touching my head thought about my sweaty mane? After that, Dan, with the voice of a the nicest guidance counselor ever, told the crowd to form a big circle in the middle and plucked out of the audience was a kid in a mustard colored shirt (I met him in the subway station after the show).
Deacon and Cox share some vocals.
Not picture, Cox and Randall jamming together like two Texas hillbillies in crouch poses.
Of course, the climax would be Deerhunter's Nothing Ever Happens. The excellent song from Microcastle turned into old school rock and roll hero worship as the crowd witnessed the members playing to the crowd.
We nearly dragged Bradford into the crowd as he got close to us. I and many others grabbed the guitar and touched it as if it were a precious relic. But alas, all good things must come to an end.
Dean Spunt of No Age doing some vocal effects on two mics during the last song. Like "Nothing Ever Happened", the final song brought the crowd once again to hero worship, as me and several other would grab Randy Randall's guitar, who left it to be attacked by us, and touched it like there was no tomorrow. I kissed the fret board. Some old dude took it and played it with his teeth. People would detune it. As a result, we breifly became part of the band, because it created some insane noise rock.
Bradford closes off the show by giving his thanks and sending out a message to the crowd. Lucky me got to take a photo with Bradford. Unfortunately, the sound guy failed to take it right, and I didn't double check (I was high on rock). So maybe some other time....
Yes, that's a didgeridoo player in the subway station. He deserved a tip.
All in all, it was a damn fun night, with many memorable moments and the interesting and wonderful people I met on this day. It was one for the record book. Wishing to go back in time is normally a sign you hate your life, but goddamn, I wanna relive this night again. And get that photo with Bradford Cox right this time.
If the No Deachunter tour is coming near your town. Get off your ass and go to it! It'll be a damn fun time.
Time for Spot me in the Crowd!
and Part 2: