Tuesday, May 31, 2005

All your bass are belong to us

Posted by: spacecog

Now, I don’t usually read Liz A’s little reports from hipsterland – life is short, and all that – but this week I couldn’t help noticing that she was writing about an event that young Spiky and I had actually attended: the recent M.I.A./LCD Soundsystem concert at the Metro. M.I.A.—real name, Maya -- is a Tamil gal whose hugely appealing music is an electronicy mishmash of hiphop and dancehall; as Liz notes, it’s a tad "heavy on the bass."

Actually, that’s a bit of an understatement. The dinky little laptop of M.I.A.’s musical partner Diplo somehow managed to produce the LOUDEST, MOST-PAINFUL, MOST BOWEL-WRENCHING BASS EVER HEARD BY MORTAL MAN. Earplugs made no difference. Spiky and I attempted to place ourselves as far from the bass as possible without actually leaving the confines of the Metro. That didn’t help much either.

The experience was roughly akin to what I imagine it would be like to have someone put a large bucket on your head and then to repeatedly pound it with a sledgehammer. In the fleeting moments between the bass poundings I could faintly hear the pitter-pat of a drum machine and M.I.A.’s shouty vocals. I could only assume that Liz and the rest of the M.I.A. fans there had already lost most of their hearing. If not, well, they were in the process of doing so. (The magnificent LCD Soundsystem was much easier on the eardrums, though Liz, like an idiot, apparently left after M.I.A. wrapped up her set.)

Anyhoo, so later in the column Liz reminisces about meeting Miss M.I.A. a couple years back, an encounter which apparently ended with an embarrassed Liz flashing her panties at M.I.A. and Elastica’s Justine Frischmann in a bathroom. I can’t give you the details because, well, I wasn’t really paying attention at that point of the story. But evidently it had something to do with Peaches. "Through a mutual friend," Liz happily informs us, "I’d come to be loosely acquainted with Peaches."

Reading that, it occurred to me that maybe half of the would-be hipsters in the US today could make that claim. Heck, I think I might even be loosely acquainted with Peaches. Peaches gets around.

KEYWORDS: Liz Armstrong, Man Boobs, Penis

(Note: Looking through our site logs we see that some people have found our little blog by doing searches on some variation of these words, so we have now adopted a policy of mentioning man boobs and penises (penii?) every time Liz Armstrong’s name comes up. Penis.)


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