I managed to put the new issue of The Rockit, my first as editor, to bed precisely 10 minutes before Estelle picked me up to head over to her sister's place, where we waited for our friend Suzie, who must have been stuck in the worst traffic ever since it took an hour for her to travel less than 20 miles. Anyhow, we ate our picnic in an apartment, since we knew we weren't going to get there in time to join Balthazar Monsoon and friends in Picnic Lot 6, where he texted me to say that he saw a guy in a kilt and poet's blouse. We ate tabouli and wasabi peas and peanut butter brownies while singing "America, Fuck Yeah" as we watched the newscasters continuing discussion of Kim Jong-Il's Fourth of July display (he's just really lonely). Wasabi peas are my new addiction because they clear my always-stuffed sinuses in ways I haven't felt since the last time I ate Phillippe's mustard.
Eventually, we ended up at the Bowl, climbing up one staircase after another and making it to our sits as The Shins played The Big Hit (that's "New Slang"). I wasn't terribly impressed with the band, but maybe if I saw them play against a crowd that actually looked alive, it might be better.
Just to get to the point, this was hands-down the most boring crowd I had ever seen in my life. I've seen more excitment in the audience of dance recitals. Perhaps this was because the show started at 7:30 p.m. on a Thursday night, meaning that people showed up right after spending a minimum of one hour in traffice while heading over to the Bowl right after work. Perhaps it is just the nature of KCRW subscribers. I don't know. However, when Nic Harcourt came out with his flaming mullet and dangling earring (s?) and announced Belle and Sebastian, who happened to be play a potentially historic show backed by the L.A. Phil, there was only polite applause. POLITE APPLAUSE! Back where we were sitting, no one stood. Not one single person. So, of course, we couldn't stand either because then we would look as out of place as Protestants at a Catholic wedding. I think Stuart, the most charming of frontmen, noticed this because he made comments reminding people to dance even though they have filled up on wine and cheese. He danced in the crowd and borrowed a dress and mascara from another audience member and cracked jokes between every song. During "Jonathan David," he pulled a girl called "Baby Bee-yatch" out of the audience and then proceeded to dance with her until the equally charming Stevie Jackson cut in, which fit with the song. I can't remember the entire setlist and was too busy twitching to songs to write things down. This is what I remember, in no particular order:
"Your Cover's Blown"
"Dear Catastrophe Waitress"
"Jonathan David"
"Waking Up To Us"
"I Fought in a War"
"Sukie in the Graveyard"
"Dirty Dream #2"
"If You're Feeling Sinister"
The Encore:
"The State I'm In"
"Boy with the Arab Strap"

There are more and, at some point, I will remember everything, but by then it will be too late. Anyhow, during the last song of the set (which has completely escaped me for the moment), Estelle and I decided to wander towards the front and see if there were some signs of life. We made it as far as the front of our back section and danced. Had we come up with this plan earlier, we probably would have been able to sneak up towards the pit and end up dancing onstage with B&S like tons of other people. Instead we danced amongst a crowd of folks who were obviously not content with polite applause, people who insist upon singing the words to "The State I'm In" no matter how many lryics they mess up. It was awesome.

On our way out, I saw the dude in the poet's shirt and kilt, but, unfortunately, I missed Balthazar once again.

Tomorrow, Megan and I are heading out to the dustbowl that is San Bernadino. I bet you can guess what that is all about, right? Anyhow, I have to go to the drugstore and stock up on the all-day concert in Hades heat survival items. Wish us luck.