Last week C. and I realized that we were both fans of La Roux. Soon thereafter we learned that she/they were going to play a show in Philly. We decided we were going to attend. The venue for this show was the
Roxxy (I encourage you to actually go to the website so you can see how they present themselves). C. convinced R. to come, and I met them after their extremely fancy-nice pre-Valentine's Day dinner. Seriously, they went to Le Bec Fin for drinks and ended up meeting Georges Perrier! R. wasn't familiar with the music and was still wearing his lawyerly garb. We took a cab to the venue, and the line quickly confirmed our worst fears: tiny skirts, high-ass heels, and plenty of under 21s. We saw three girls get turned away because they didn't have proper identification and/or they were under 17. There were metal detectors, and relatively thorough body checks. We checked our coats and headed upstairs.
We stayed in the same three seats by the bar the entire time we were not watching La Roux. This was approximately three hours, maybe a little less. I think we got there a little after 10, and the performance didn't start til 12:30 or later. This place was populated by a whole range of people I didn't understand existed in such massive quantities. I am going to betray some snobbery in this post, and I think I just need to own it while recognizing that regardless of hair style, fashion-sense, music choice, or general life view, douchebags are people too. There were two screens in view of the dance floor, on which one could text messages so that the entire club could read them. These messages ran the gamut of a 'happy birthday wish' to veiled propositions.
Downstairs there was additional dance space, I think for the kids under 21. There was also a woman in a bikini dancing. I tried to take a good photograph, but I didn't.
This girl liked R.'s suit. R., it must be said, was a good sport about the whole evening. And was almost definitely the only person dressed like a proper grown up:)
The songs kept insisting we put our hands up. This was the closest to raising the roof R. got.
This is the picture of the night.
The music was a little repetitive. But I don't mind a little Lady Gaga, so it wasn't completely unpalatable. What
was unpalatable was the the radio station's on-stage competition. The radio guys brought up three (I think? I couldn't actually see) women and three men, and made the women get on their knees while the guys held plungers between their legs. The plungers had been marked with a sharpie around the top handle, and the women were given sandpaper. The goal was to use the sandpaper to rub the mark off the handle, which was being held suggestively between a man's legs. Whichever woman could sand the mark away the fastest won a prize. This reminded me of
dueling pianos, and how some things really do make me feel like the world is much less lovely than I like to think it is...which isn't necessarily saying that much, you know?
I need to photoshop the La Roux pictures a bit before I put them up.
We stayed in the same three seats by the bar the entire time we were not watching La Roux. This was approximately three hours, maybe a little less. I think we got there a little after 10, and the performance didn't start til 12:30 or later. This place was populated by a whole range of people I didn't understand existed in such massive quantities. I am going to betray some snobbery in this post, and I think I just need to own it while recognizing that regardless of hair style, fashion-sense, music choice, or general life view, douchebags are people too. There were two screens in view of the dance floor, on which one could text messages so that the entire club could read them. These messages ran the gamut of a 'happy birthday wish' to veiled propositions.
Downstairs there was additional dance space, I think for the kids under 21. There was also a woman in a bikini dancing. I tried to take a good photograph, but I didn't.
This girl liked R.'s suit. R., it must be said, was a good sport about the whole evening. And was almost definitely the only person dressed like a proper grown up:)
The songs kept insisting we put our hands up. This was the closest to raising the roof R. got.
This is the picture of the night.
The music was a little repetitive. But I don't mind a little Lady Gaga, so it wasn't completely unpalatable. What was unpalatable was the the radio station's on-stage competition. The radio guys brought up three (I think? I couldn't actually see) women and three men, and made the women get on their knees while the guys held plungers between their legs. The plungers had been marked with a sharpie around the top handle, and the women were given sandpaper. The goal was to use the sandpaper to rub the mark off the handle, which was being held suggestively between a man's legs. Whichever woman could sand the mark away the fastest won a prize. This reminded me of dueling pianos, and how some things really do make me feel like the world is much less lovely than I like to think it is...which isn't necessarily saying that much, you know?
I need to photoshop the La Roux pictures a bit before I put them up.
2 comments:
bulletproof is one of my favorite songs!
Then you would have been pleased...Bulletproof was one of the three, maybe four, songs played:)
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