What I did last night instead of seeing Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks play live
I watched a few episodes from season 3 of The West Wing and thought, not for the first time, this is the cast of Friends moved to the White House.
I wondered whether there was even the remotest possibility Stephen and his band could be even a 10th as good as this cover version would indicate – and if so, what the fuck was I doing staying at home?
I thought it unlikely.
Oh how we loved Stephen Malkmus in our youth! One of the few indie rock Prime Ministers to ever be elected to a second term. Oh how you dominated the 90s with your style and wit, your passion and melody. But those days are over. Your riddles have run dry. Your mystery is no longer engaging. Your sense of abandon morphed along the way from ‘not giving a fuck’ into ‘not giving a shit’. Even your high-faluting, scrabble-playing, crossword-solving intellect seems to have deserted you (using ‘bourgeoisie’ as an adjective, really Stephen).
I dribbled revenge fantasies upon all those who feel Foo Fighters represent anything except bombast and misplaced nostalgic and, not for the first time, felt this band to be the antithesis of everything Nirvana believed in. Ironic of course, as Foo Fighters wouldn’t exist if Kurt hadn’t died. I have never been a particular fan of a) Rush, b) elongated guitar solos masquerading as value-for-money, c) dickheads, d) acoustic sections, e) Journey, f) journeyman musicians, g) MEN PLAYING ROCK or h) wank.
I shivered at the thought of not liking a third Bedroom Suck album. (I could yet change my mind.)
I exchanged photographs with the most incredible rock’n’roll band of 2015. The fact NO band EVER has sent me a “thank-you photograph” before in response to a review may go some considerable way to explaining this outlandish claim. They sent me a thank-you photograph, so I sent them a good-luck photograph. It was perhaps unfortunate I was half-naked at the time.
I listened to 11 songs from one of my favourite Brisbane bands. Possibly my FAVOURITE Brisbane band right now… although then I started singing ‘Safe Little Circles’ to myself all over again, and slapped myself hard.
I thought about… no. Let’s not write that line.
I played online chess, as always.
I thought back to a comment made in Sex Drugs Rock N’ Roll – the first class of the year in Caboolture. A student asked if it was true I’d introduced Kurt Cobain to Courtney Love. I replied, “Do I look like the sort of person who would have introduced Kurt Cobain to Courtney Love?” He shook his head. We all laughed, and moved on.
I wondered why I keep adding so many links when no one clicks on them. Ever.
I chuckled again at the insult “deutschbag”.
Deutschbag. Hur hur.