It isn’t quite New Orleans, but Bar Sinister makes me happy in some of the same ways that New Orleans does. Dancing to Depeche Mode (“Policy of Truth”) with a glass of faux-absinthe in one hand definitely makes me smile. It’s not as much joy as I would get from drinking absinthe in Pirates Alley, of course, but out of all the places I could be on a Saturday in L.A., Bar Sinister is the one I’m most at home in.
Also, Babyland were the musical act last night, and I actually really enjoyed the show. It’s the sort of thing that’s best seen live. It was as if someone threw the Creatures, Frontline Assembly and a touch of those garbage can percussion guys into a very loud blender. It was a wall of solid sound, of which half was a strange in-key yelling, set to sampled Moog loops, and the rest was percussion played on oil drums and pipes. And the two guys who make up the band (“an L.A. duo”) were so into it, and so passionate that even the low-budget props seemed to take on meaning. Using a can of air freshener to create smoke, and a road flare to create light, would have been far more amusing than creative if it hadn’t been done the same way.
It was still a fucking awesome live show, and I’ll go see them again any day. I wouldn’t have been into the music recorded – it’s too much, too loud – but as a live act, I loved it.
Unfortunately, today, I had to get up early to help two good friends move from their apartment to a duplex about a half-mile from where I live. This was a painful morning. I called said friends to let them know that my guy roomate and I were running late. And I informed them, “did you know Bar Sinister serves faux-absinthe?”
“REALLY?”
“Yes, and right now, I wish I hadn’t found out either.”
But despite aching quads from dancing (and biking to the Farmer’s Market yesterday) , and a hangover the likes of which equals anything I’ve had in New Orleans, the Shaque still represented to help move. And since the best cure for a hangover is exercise, that seemed to get rid of mine. Although exercise can’t help the fact that I got less than six hours sleep. Maybe caffeine can cure that instead. And since Cafe du Monde is back in operation, I think I’ll go make myself the New Orleans cure for hangovers: cafe au lait and gumbo with extra tabasco. It’s about as close as I’m going to be able to get for some time.
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