Aya and I saw Gogol Bordello last night at the House of Blues in downtown Cleveland. Our dinner ran long so we rushed to make it on time and ended up missing the first few songs. Still, we saw well over an hour of frenetic energy, well-orchestrated chaos and great music. Definitely one of the best live shows I’ve seen in a while. With nine members-not always on the stage together-the band created a beautiful cacophony of punk, traditional Eastern European gypsy music and many other types of music all mixed together with instruments you don’t see everyday in a rock atmosphere. Violins, accordions, cymbals, dancers. Of course, there were guitars, a bass and drums.
Singer Eugene Hutz is a tremendous showman. It was a great coincidence that they happened to be playing in Cleveland the same time that we are here. I’ve always wanted to see them in New York, but they always seem to be on tour elsewhere so I never had the opportunity. I wasn’t sure what kind of crowd would show up for them in Cleveland, even though I know they have a pretty big following. I was pleased to see a few hundred people-most of who seemed to be having a good time. I was reminded that Cleveland is a music-oriented city and people will show up to see good live music. Since I went to my first punk show in Cleveland 20 years ago this summer, I’ve seen a lot of great live shows, and much of them were in Cleveland. (In case you are wondering, that first show featured Half Life, the Plague, Knifedance, Blowout and Blank Schatz.)
I first heard of these guys a few years ago through the book “Crossing The Boulevard,” which chronicles the diverse stories of immigrants from all over the world who all came to Queens, New York. Queens Library had an exhibit on the book and a few of the guys-I think it was the accordion and violin player-came to the opening and performed a few instrumentals, much more low-key than anything I saw last night. I helped them find the F train, which they had to take all the way to the other end near Coney Island I recall. Other than that, I didn’t talk to them much.
Actually, I wasn’t sure we’d go at all because these days Aya often changes her mind about going to things like this. Even before she was pregnant, she did that. Tiredness was the usual reason. But she ended up loving it too, saying it was one of her two favorite concerts-the other being Radiohead. (Of course, she has only been to a handful of concerts.) It reminded us both of our early days together, days when we both did things to please the other until I relationship was cemented. She went to see the Italian punk band Raw Power at CBGB with me and later braved a Slayer concert at Roseland. But, a few weeks ago she declined my offer to see Manu Chao in Prospect Park and we had a brief spat about it. I was upset because we no longer shared this, but perhaps more because I don’t have many friends in New York anymore who would go to a concert like this with me. Last year, I saw Manu by myself, but didn’t want to do that again even though I had a great time and get buzzed from the contact. Now, Aya wants to see Gogol live again and perhaps other shows will follow. Of course, in New York we have to pay for a baby sitter and arrange it in advance, so there won’t be any spontaneous concert-going and the band better be worth the outlay for childcare. I think this was my first show since Ana was born and I gotta tell you it was quite liberating.
As I write this, I’m listening to NPR’s live broadcast of Gogol Bordello’s show at the 9:30 Club in DC. (I went to the 9:30 many times during college when it was in the old cramped quarters on F Street. Now, it’s a huge venue I believe.) This is pretty cool. I never knew that NPR did this. You can check it out later because it will be archived here. The song that is playing now-”Start Wearing Purple”-was definitely the biggest crowd pleaser and appears to be their most popular song. It was in the movie “Everything is Illuminated” which included singer Hutz in a prominent and quite comic role. In “Purple,” he refers to himself as a clown, and he definitely lives up to that live, although clearly, that is only one part of his persona.
Anyway, check out the band and go see them live. It’s a must.
I swore long ago that if I ever had a kid I wasn’t going to be the type of parent to blow ridiculous amounts of money on designer label clothing for someone who would outgrow it in a matter of weeks. Whenever I saw an infant or toddler outfitted head-to-toe in Sean John or with Air Jordans, I hissed to myself in disgust. Well, call me a hypocrite, but I couldn’t help myself…
At the rest stop on I-80 in Pennsylvania, I put my hands under the blow dryer to dry my hands. I noticed there were Braille instructions on the dryer. But if a blind person was in there alone, how would he know there was even Braille there? And, if he was with someone else who could take him to the dryer and show him how to use it, why would he need to read the Braille? And certainly, a blind person could not find his way to this rest stop in the middle of nowhere on his own, could he? Really, what is the point of this? When does common sense enter the equation?
Exiting I-271 at Cedar, making the turn into Acacia Park and onto Kilbourne I immediately sensed something different about the neighborhood where I grew up. It was the trees. It seemed like they were gone and the surroundings were suddenly naked. Naked and ugly. Without the trees, the bland suburban homes were on display. Trees make places like this tolerable. But more and more these days, it seems that people care less and less about them. I mentioned this when I got to my mom’s house and Dennis said the trees are the same. But, when you haven’t been somewhere for a long time and you come back, you notices changes like this.
Then, as I approached Winchester-the street where I grew up-the ugliest blight of all stared me down. A new condo development attached to the golf course at Acacia Country Club. It’s barrenness and incompleteness were stark. Things here have changed, and mostly for the worst. My appetite for suburban living has shrunk even further in these few days that I’ve been here in Lyndhurst.
So ESPN has this new mini-series starting tonight called “The Bronx is Burning”. I saw a promo for it on the subway yesterday, and the funny thing about it is the bridge depicted is none other than the Brooklyn Bridge, which for those of you not familiar with the geography of this here city, connects Brooklyn and lower Manhattan. It does not go anywhere near the Bronx. Why didn’t ESPN use a picture of the Triboro or the Willis Avenue or the Throgs Neck bridge? All of these do in fact connect the Bronx to one of the other boroughs. Is this just laziness on the part of the marketers? Do they not care about accuracy? Does anyone but me see the problem here? Why bother making a movie about the Bronx and then short change it like this? Brooklyn hasn’t had a major league team since 1957 and as far as I know the Yankees have never played in Brooklyn.
By the way, and this is a total non-sequitor, I hate the Yankees with all my heart and I hope they lose every game from here to eternity or at least until George Steinbrenner can’t take it any more and fires himself. Just thought that needed to be said.
Some of you out in Blogland may not be aware that the cultural phenomenon “American Idol”-which itself was apparently based on the British show “Pop Idol” (aren’t all American cultural ideas stolen from the British with little recognition of that fact from Americans who think they invented everything?)–has spawned countless spin-offs in other countries. I once glimpsed “Philippine Idol” at a Filipino restaurant in Queens. That the show would be popular there came as no surprise; the Philippines is the most karaoke-obsessed culture I know of. (Nearly every Filipino household includes a “Magic Mike” karaoke system, as do most Filipino restaurants-at least in America.)
Another culture that loves to sing and dance and watch other people sing and dance, and especially watch movies where people sing and dance, is the Indian culture. Today, when I went to get my haircut down the street from my apartment at Moon Barber Shop, I learned that there is also an Indian version aptly called “Indian Idol”. Even the logo is the same as the American show. I’m pretty sure that shop is Pakistani (so at first I thought it was “Pakistani Idol”), but they watch Indian TV. (It seems that although the countries fight each other like dogs and accuse each other of terrorism and have opposing nuclear arsenals, much of the culture is shared.) This of course extends to pop music.
While I was waiting my turn, I was only watching the show while listening to my iPod. It was Gogol Bordello , the Gypsy punk band that I hope to see in Cleveland a week from Tuesday. But when it was my turn, I had to take the iPod off. I had to listen to the show. It was standard Bollywood-type fare. Not that interesting, but not displeasing either. Some of the women can sing incredibly high. Of course, I have no idea what they are saying, but I assume that they’re most love songs devoid of real meaning like their American counterparts. But still, despite never actually enduring an entire episode of “American Idol,” I can unequivocally declare that I much prefer the Indian version, partly because I don’t know what they are singing about.
Say what you want about Al Gore III, but one thing you can’t say is that he makes his father look like a hypocrite.
Dad may not have had that talk with his son about not smoking pot and illegally obtaining prescription drugs, but he certainly made sure that Al III didn’t drive a gas guzzler.
By the way, who knew a Toyota Prius could go 100 MPH?
