The Intelligence Estimate

Me and Leslie Hall of Leslie and the Lys

Some friends from work (and a friend I from the blogosphere I didn't even know I had) went to a concert on Sunday night at a bar called The Beat Kitchen. The band we wanted to see (Leslie and the Lys) didn't go on until 11, but we wanted to be there early in case the show sold out. As a result we saw the two opening bands as well. One of them, Robo-Sapien, was terrific. The other one (who shall remain nameless) was abhorrent and I'm pretty sure made it onto the bill because someone lost a bet.

The band was a proto-punk outfit made up of two guitars, a bass, a drummer and more psychoses per square inch than bands twice their size. However, what they lacked in size and skill and musical ability and stagecraft and personality and talent they more than made up for with volume. Their sound proudly proclaimed, "we are channeling our anger through our distortion peddles and now you're angry too!"

But ears were not the only thing bleeding, so was the lead "singer." He had a large gash (and a seemingly fresh one at that) on his bicep that was seeping down his arm and pooling around his elbow. I noiticed it because I was actively looking for ANYTHING else to watch that wasn't the band. A pool of blood was preferable and more musical. I couldn't decide if the "singer" had done it on purpose for effect, or it was an accident. I finally settled on the notion that his body was physically rejecting his "music"...as was the rest of the room.

They thrashed about the stage wailing and stumbling for about 20 minutes and then packed up and left. But not before hurling the typical punk insults at the audience. In between "songs" they would politely remind the audience to "shut the fuck up." Which seemed presumptuous of them considering that no one was really applauding out of anything more than fear.

Watching them you got the distinct impression that the "real band" was tied up in the basement of whatever mental institute these posers wandered out of. I only hope that the real band gets word to the outside world before this lot of sociopaths ruins what little credibility they have left.