Monday, October 18, 2004

Dolly Parton and Lord Byron, they said patriotism is the last refuge but now it's me.



I saw The Fall this weekend. Mark E. Smith looks like an ancient mole. He is hunched, I'm sure he's shrinking, and it doesn't seem like his eyes are ever open. Like he is forever lost in either the reality or habit of the drunken faith that you do not need to see where you going are to get there.

But I suspect he sees where he is going. He does not move rhythmically on stage. He is not flappable. He constantly switched mics and mic boom stands. Often he used two mics that he held together while dropping another mic stand or mic to the floor, only to pick it back up a minute later and begin to use it again. Only to abandon it again a minute later. All for no discernible change in sound. He also fiddled with his various band members' amps in the middle of songs and tapped on the drummer's tom some during songs. Like he was testing it. I would have worried that the drummer would whack my hand = the dif. btw. Mark E. and me.

The odd behaviour was backed by other moments when he stood at front of the band, held his chin out with the wrecked skin of his face and seemed, with band blazing behind him, like Ahab.

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