Middle O' the Week Musical Happenings

Concerts in the middle of the week? I usually say no. I do. But when such a rare occasion as both Muse AND Black Rebel Motorcycle Club coming to town occurs, I say yes. YES YES YES.

So here's the dizzle: I bought tickets to Muse for mis amigas' Xmas presents - I know, good friend, huh? - which took place on Wednesday night. Silver Sun Pickups opened. We jetted over to Ft. Worth after some minor traffic scares, settled into the hotel, walked over for some burgers and beer, then back to the hotel to get ready. Thank God for Deandra, because she booked us this hotel that was within walking distance to EVERYTHING - well, everything we wanted to frequent. Right next to the concert and a couple blocks away from bars. Woohoo!

The concert was pretty cool. Silver Sun Pickups were good, but I'm not a huge fan of theirs. I know a lot of people are. They put on a good show, but I have an inkling they're better-suited for smaller venues. They just don't put on a wow show, and you gots to if you're playing for thousands. Muse puts on a wow show. Insane. See below for ridiculous tower projectors/platforms, nuts-o light show, and just overall badassness. We had fun. Then went out - St. Patty's day, keep in mind. Yeah, so beaut-ee-ful night with my girls. Glad they could come.

Night Two: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Kickass, I say, kickass! They are a new favorite of mine. And I was super excited to see them, because I'm just now getting into them. So my style. Anyway, my friends could not come. Not a one of 'em. Busy busy busy. So, I invited people from work. Busy. Invited people on Facebook. No such luck. Finally I had to beg my sister to go with me, and she obliged - she always does. Then her boyfriend came with us. Now, my sister and her bf are NOT rock n rollers. They like country, folk, singer-songwriters. But they still came. What sweetie pies! I've got to say, even though I didn't have my spectacular friends who would have enjoyed the show there, I still think that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is in my top three favorite concerts. They did their thing. And I liked it. Can't wait to see them again. Hopefully next time, I can bring my lovely friends who would totally get a kick out of these guys (and gal, sometimes). Here is another video for your viewing pleasure:

Oh my, they're cool :) Live long and prosper, boys (and gal, sometimes).

Had a blast this week!

Sean McConnell

March 3 - Went to one of the best shows ever with my sis and her friend .... You guessed it, Sean McConnell. And I bet you've never heard of this guy. You shouldn't have.

One azure day, Kylie (my sister), was listening to the Ranch out of Ft. Worth and heard one of this guy's songs, fell in love, and the rest is history ... Not really ... I'm actually going to tell you the rest of the story. So she looks up some vids, songs, info, the whole she-bang, shares it with me, and we plan to attend this small show at Hat Trick's in Lewisville together.

Good God, this guy is phe-nom-en-al. Sound it out. He can sing circles around anybody. He can play guitar. He's an outstanding lyricist. And his band kicks ass. Those three guys sound huge. It was just an outstanding performance. I can't really give you a good idea of Sean McConnell in writing, so here's a video. Keep in mind, the live experience is a force to be reckoned with.

Critique: Money by Martin Amis (Spoilers)

This book! This book! How fantastic is this book? (Rhetorical question). Awesome! Martin Amis, you are a God. To prove this: Martin Amis puts himself in a book written in somebody else's point of view. And it isn't stupid.

So this is Money: John Self, moviemaker, is living in straight-up debauchery. I'm talking porno, sadomasochistic sex, greed, lots and lots of drink, and as the narrator clarifies, "Unless I specifically inform you otherwise, I'm always smoking another cigarette." But all these things at this particular moment are converging, and John Self is destined for a wake-up call.

There's not much of a plot, save for John trying to make a movie whilst dealing with all the psychos in his circle. He deals with a skeezy girlfriend, a skeezy financier, a skeezy father, skeezy colleagues, and his skeezy self. That being said, he don't need no stinkin' plot. Amis is the thinking man's writer. He delivers ambitious, extravagant prose. You will be doing double-takes through the whole book. You will never catch a break, because he deprives us of our ease of reading. If you don't like or appreciate that sort of writing, don't pick this book up.

I put writing above plot. If you can construct an intriguing sentence, I'll forget about a so-so plot. But let me tell you, mister, I cannot forgive dull, sloppy writing just because you got a great story. Here's the deal with Amis and plot: his writing is so complex, requires so much reader involvement, that it would be too much to have both. Nothing should take away from his talent, which is a clever sentence. I feel as if an intricate, "moving" plot would seem superfluous next to his on-the-fly wit.

Amis has been criticized for depicting the gratuitous and obscene ALL THE TIME. He's the "Bad Boy of British Fiction." But, Christ, he does it so brilliantly. I was reading and thinking, "God, this is such boy fantasy," but I cannot for the life of me find anything remotely cliche about Money. In theory, it should be typical, but it's everything except.

Also, I love the narration in Money. It's in first person (from the point of view of John Self), who talks to us like he would his therapist. Again, in theory, talking to your readers would be totally lame, but Amis turns it into a strength. I will say that, because of the POV, Amis's wit gets the better of him. I love love love it - as stated above - but I don't necessarily believe the wit coming from John Self.

Anyway, this review is all over the place. I told you it would require more thought, and I just don't have it in me. But I want to put down something about this book. It's one of the best I've ever read for sure. Go out and get it - highly recommended. I feel like I can't do it justice; this review sounds like a bunch of gibberish, but just take my word for it. You won't be sorry.