January 19, 2002

THIS makes me SO HAPPY! It's almost PAINFUL:

Honestly...I mean. Well. Maybe I'm happier than I think I am. I mean, most of the day, I'm completely not happy. Not depressed either, just absolutely nothing. It's the weirdest feeling, nothing. I get that feeling a lot. But anyway! Here are parts of the review with wonderful comments from me (as though my opinion counts, ha!)...which is of the show I WENT TO which makes it much better, yeah?

One day Even Johansen is going to conquer America with a band in tow. But on an unusually warm late fall night on New York's Lower East Side, this Norwegian singer-songwriter had to go it alone. At Brownies, a tiny club on Avenue B that's often host to artists on the way up the alternative rock ladder, he bravely accompanied himself with a vintage white lap-steel guitar while a button-pushing soundman armed with samples, loops and a bottle of Budweiser shot shards of noise around the room.

Well the band in tow would be...Libido! I mean..kind of. Libido! And it WAS unusually warm. I had short sleeves! And. It was raining before, quite heavily before...I swear, everything went perfect that night, pretty much. sigh...

Johansen, reminiscent of U.K. alt-pop superstars Thom Yorke, Coldplay and Travis, is learning the ropes on his first solo tour hastily booked to whip up attention for his stunning debut disc Quiet & Still (Five One). In concert the spry composer's demeanor is the antithesis of the title of his record; he appears nothing like the close-up shot on the cover.

true...(i don't get much more profound than that)...

With a few onlookers straggling in shortly after 9 p.m. for the opening set, Johansen bounced on stage and bellowed "is everyone ready to dance? Good evening New York!" No response. He quickly sat down and inquired in a carnival barker's voice if there were any Thin Lizzy fans in attendance. No response again. The collegiate audience was dumbfounded at Johansen's self-effacing humor, which speaks volumes of the kind of education afforded at the near-by New York University.

ARGH! I shoudl have gone at nine! I was probably...still walking around! Or being a dumbass. I was probably still in midtown or something! *rips head apart*...god. What the hell is wrong with me. Sigh. I would have wanted to go "YEAAAAH!" but even if I was there, I wouldn't have said anything. I would have sat dumbfounded.

Sussing out the situation with a measure of intelligence and wit, Johansen effortlessly launched into a haunting rendition of Phil Lynott's "Dancing in the Moonlight" with the wacko bravado of Syd Barrett on steroids. As the crowd thickened with curiosity they slowly edged toward the stage, much to the delight of Johansen who goaded them with "Where Happiness Lives," a neat little suicidal ditty that recalls: "it was last October on a Tuesday night / when she said fuck you it's over if you're getting high tonight / so he went straight down the white line and let a good thing down."

My head nearly exploded when I heard him playing Dancing in the moonlight. YES. There could have been bits of Robyn guts all over the lower east side. it would have been disgusting. I swear...if I try to remember that exact moment he started playing, I think I must have made some kind of odd sound like "spooknookuehhere HES PLAYING" and then proceeded to tug away at Jen's shirt and.....um

...sorry. I don't know what I'm talking about. Apparently, I'm insane, hm.

While referring to himself as "Even" and the mysterious technician as "Johnson," the artist showed off his multiple personalities by picking country and western licks, blues riffs and folksy arpeggios juxtaposed to a mechanical backbeat that often resolved into cacophony.

The mysterious technician..WHO I DIDNT EVEN SEE! I feel bad. imac guy! Jen remembers him. she said she was standing by him..! Yeah, that nice, I didn't notice anything, apparently. Sigh.

Johansen's self-produced disc - on which he played all instruments - consists of lush, sleepy arrangements. Without a hope of transposing that sanctified studio atmosphere live, he wisely opted to toss the recorded versions aside and go for broke. Though the club's shaky sound system popped and crackled at inopportune moments Johansen's performance was strong and spirited. The smiley face delivered maudlin lyrics such as "the bastard has come to claim his throne as king of picking on the wrong / the blade in his hand might scare you to death if the stink doesn't kill you first" charmed the room after his brief half-hour set.

popped anc crackled...well it was just really..loud! and my recording came out like poo! but thats okay, at the time, it sounded so great, couldn't have imagined anything better. "The smiley face"...hm. :) :) :) :) SMILES FOR EVERYONE DAMMIIT yes.

Without a roadie in sight, the twentysomething Nordsman packed his gear and headed for the bar, proving beyond a reasonable doubt that the ravishing melancholy world of Even Johansen ends with the last note of the gig and the first happy-hour libation.

Headed for the BAR? I didn't see that. Was I in la la land? I went by there to buy his CD for rebecca. and. yeah. not like i went there to drink alcohol. twenty something? I think he's in his thirties! Oh well. Ah...yeah...

.....sigh. It probably isn't healthy to reminicse about stuff that much. I mean...well, in a way. As long as I don't live in past, I'm alright. Think about future concert experiences!...but wouldn't everything pale in comparison to that night?

I should go to bed now. Yeah.

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