Innate

I finally saw a show at the Bowery Ballroom last night. After spending some quality time catching up and consuming perishables, D and I arrived just in time to hear Death Vessel. I have been listening to this album non-stop since I bought it in December. It's in my top 10 already. He was amazing - he performed solo and had the entire audience captivated. During Low's set, I signed the Death Vessel mailing list and was all awkward because I didn't want to start gushing.

I was dangerously close to being like "I am so affected by your music" or "You have no idea how many times I have listened to your CD" or "I don't really understand how I existed prior to hearing your music" and "Your music was already a part of me before I heard it! It's, like, innately there."

Instead, I snuck up and scribbled my name and email address on the list and made sure not to make eye contact, because I may have melted.

His Name Is Alive was next. I had mixed feelings about this portion of the show. D is a huge fan and has seen them numerous times, but admitted that he didn't like all of the shows because their musical direction changes so often and so dramatically. I have decided that His Name Is Alive is an awesome live band. I liked them live far better than in recordings.

Throughout their set, I started obsessing over getting a hair cut. I need one, desperately, and prior to last night hadn't thought much beyond "I should really find somewhere to get a cheap haircut." Last night was the pivotal moment when I could think of nothing else.

I kept thinking "My hair is too freaking long" and "I have the worst haircut here" and "Where do all these hipsters get their hair done?" and "How do they afford these haircuts?" and "Why does their hair do what they want it to?" and "My head is so heavy with this hair!" I was so depressed. I wanted to bury my head in ugly shame. I then became obsessed with having my hair colored, and thought about that instead of listening to music. I looked at every girl and her hair style and color, trying to figure out what to do and how to finance it. I had grandiose ideas!

Every now and then I'd realize I wasn't listening, and would try to think about something other than the sweet moment tomorrow when I would call Aveda and hear that their haircuts are inexpensive.

My body also started rebelling during His Name Is Alive. My lower back started aching, my feet were killing, and my shoulders and upper back were in immense pain because I was leaning over the balcony in this weird position. I kept shifting back and forth, trying to get comfortable, but couldn't. I wanted to sit on the floor, or on a couch, or offer the guys at the sound board $100 to let me sit with them.

When Low came on, I was exhausted and in extreme discomfort. So was D. His legs and back always hurt when he stands for extended periods of time. Prior to last night, I never had a difficult time standing for hours. I think it may be because we stood for hours on Thursday. Although I don't think it works like that.

This is the first time I've seen Low, which is a travesty. I really should have seen them before this, when I was younger and could stay up late. By midnight I was exhausted and couldn't hear the music over my catatonia. D and I went downstairs and sat on the couch, and within three seconds I feel asleep on his shoulder.

This being said, Low is awesome. Not the best band to see while tired, but still awesome. I think Low is a band best seen from a seat. There really need to be adult rock shows.

My body is still killing and I am sick (I have been on the verge of getting sick for about a week and I think its officially happening, so I am going to go home now and crawl into bed, enjoy its softness and watch some penguins. Awww yeah.

Until tomorrow...