I would not say that I was really disappointed, only that I'd had my fill. The bass was starting to rattle my head and the visuals were starting to get a little too disorienting for me to keep watching. Didn't seem to be bothering the 70 year old ladies across the aisle, though.When I first arrived I went to the restroom and there was some guy in the stall who kept flushing the toilet every 5 seconds and swearing furiously to himself.
why wasnt i invited to this concert
Dan, I'm gonna buy you a Harvey Milk ticket.
Gas aka Wolfgang Voigt at the Chicago Cultural Center, 05/26/09The joy that Wolfgang Voigt experienced upon being informed that his collected works released under the GAS moniker had received the much sought-after 10/10 rating from Solid Little Rock Jams was enough to get his skinny German butt all the way across the sea to unleash his minimal techno fury upon a sea of Chicago hipsteurs of many races!So he got onstage and stood in front of a podium in the dark with a laptop and it was basically like listening to one of his albums but with the bass frequencies a bit more overpowering.There was some video being played behind him, it was pretty cool, I guess! There's a reason Innerspace wises up and cuts to the zany Martin Short antics after the opening journey through the water glass. I believe that I understand the artistic intent of the night's visual component, however.I would have shouted, "PLAY THE HITS!" but Voigt must have read my mind 'cause he treated the grateful, patient audience to a storming rendition of "Pop V."Quite honestly, I considered leaving during the first minute because I could tell right away what I was in for, which in addition to the guarantee of "elite music" included standing up for an hour and a half (although I did score a seat for the last half hour or so!) and sweating like crazy unless I took my jacket off. However, the shifting textures consistently provided many aural wonders to behold. The hour and a half running time flew by faster than was expected and the throbbing bass drum centered techno pieces certainly mixed things up, offering up some hypnotic grooves for one to bob one's head to.Fellow SLRJ writer Joe didn't care to stick around past the first 60 minutes. And he came all this way! Certainly a longer journey than the 15 minute Purple Line ride that I had to endure. Well, I saw Throbbing Gristle perform the soundtrack to some boring "art film" a month ago and I was miserable as all fuck during that and almost didn't stick around for their greatest hits performance that I paid for and actually wanted to see. So I suppose I understand how intense feelings of disappointment might drive one to that breaking point which Joe found himself confronting on this rainy Chicago evening.Maybe at heart I'm just a "glass is half full" kind of guy with more experience pretending to like things than most people can lay claim to.Not a bad show, IMHO.
Great work, Joe. You must have some mighty tricks up your sleeve.I'm not gonna republish it because I want the world to bask in my hilarious P4k/Black Kids reference, but at least it is preserved here forever.
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