Concerts! Work! Hoorah!

Some time during the first week I was here, I went for a walk. I set out, trying to find somewhere nice to eat, walking sort of aimlessly downtown. As it turns out, that is in no way the best way to find somewhere to eat, and all of a sudden it's nine o clock and I have not eaten dinner and my bag is heavy and I feel lost and so alone. I think that was the first time I realized how hard it is to have an adventure on your own.

Continuing: I managed to find a record store. One I'd actually heard of; Slowtrain Records, which has this incredible (and deserved) reputation. I went in and bought a couple cds, and they pointed me in the direction of a decent restaurant. It was then that I realized that Yo La Tengo was coming to town to play a gig. Earlier that week, I'd learned that Frightened Rabbit was playing a gig in Salt Lake, too. The moment I realized my two favorite bands in the world would be playing in this town was like a Revelation. Such solace, you have no idea.

Anyway, I went back a couple days later, to buy tickets to the two concerts I have been generally speaking the most excited about EVER. And last night, the first of said concerts, The Twilight Sad, We Were Promised Jetpacks, and Frightened Rabbit, happened.

Did you see that?

That moment right there.

Yeah, that's the moment you realized that I am WAY hipper than you.

Anyway... The concert opened with We Were Promised Jetpacks, who I think are the least known act on the lineup, but I have trouble telling which bands I listen to are obscure and which are generally known. Jetpacks is not a bad band on album. I like their music quite a bit. Live is another story, however. They are fantastic live. I thought the lead singer was about to have a heat attack or an aneurysm for most of their act, though. SO INTENSE. If you can see them, do.

The second act wasn't really worth discussing, so instead I'll discuss concert dynamics. I'm pretty sure I was the only girl there stag. There were a couple girls with their friends, but for the most part, there were girlfriends. Lots of girlfriends, cuzzying up to their bearded, hipster boyfriends. The concert was overwhelmingly male. I'm not sure why that bothered me as much as it did. I don't know why women don't do things on their own. It seems to me like most of the women I know don't have the gumption to go out and do something just on their own steam. They need friends or beaux to take them out, so they can stand in a circle and look pretty and aloof, or so they have someone to cuddle. Women don't have their own adventures. I know that's a generalization, and a very sexist one at that, but the older I get, the more true it seems to me.

Frightened Rabbit can play a little emo on their records. They're a very earnest band, that sounds like it's nursing a healthy alcohol problem, as well as a certain amount of generalized resentment. Their albums are very listenable, "The Midnight Organ Fight" is one of my favorite albums of all time, but their stage act is so aggressive. Their lead guitarist convulses on stage, he fucking SHREDS that shit. They were so into their music, but still managed to look slightly incredulous at the enthusiasm of the crowd. The crowd was great, by the way. I think everyone there knew the words to every single song, excluding the unreleased ones. Jetpacks and Frightened Rabbit in particular looked pretty stunned at how excited the crowd was to hear them. The Twilight Sad just looked pretentious.

The coolest thing about the show, however, aside from the music (which was bitching) was getting to speak (briefly) to members of both the bands I cared about. There is nothing cooler than getting to tell someone that their set rocked your fucking world, and that their album is your favorite ever.

In other news, I have procured for myself employment.

I work bussing tables and manning the counter at The Training Table, a Utah establishment of truly unparalleled quality. Their schtick is that instead of actually ordering from a waiter, or interacting with a human being, you pick up a telephone posted at each table, and call the counter, where an employee (me) takes your order, and passes it along to be cooked. After you eat, another employee (also me) cleans up after you. The whole endeavour leaves you without a clear sense that there are any actual people working at the restaurant.

It's pretty frikkin' miserable, let me tell you, but somehow, it's not the worst job I've ever had.

And I doubt it will be the worst ever.

Which is incredibly, unutterably, inexcusably depressing.

-Rachael