Friday, August 24, 2007

Del Scorcho and The Spaghetti on My Lawn


Two nights ago I went to see Wolf Parade with my friend, Brian. It was an awesome show. The opening band we saw was kind of bullshit. Unlike the first time I saw Wolf Parade when Holy Fuck opened and blew everyone's minds. Wolf Parade were on fire, though. And drunk. They took to calling themselves Del Scorcho (because of the Tecate they were drinking in large sums). Sums? Amounts, more likely. They played a bunch of new songs that were great, but the best parts were the old songs. Only because they were so tight on those songs. I spent the time after the show contemplating if this was a better show than Parts & Labor which up until that night was the best show I've seen this year.

When I actually think about it, this has been one of the best years for shows in a long time. Two nights of Yo La Tengo, TV on The Radio, The Rosebuds' last show at Kings (with the indescribable greatness that was Monotonix), the last night of Kings itself, Parts & Labor, and now Wolf Parade. There were even more shows that I missed out on, and a few biggies on the horizon. Like next month's Andrew Bird show at The Carolina Theatre.

I would have posted this yesterday, and it probably would have been fresher with more anecdotes about the actual show, if it weren't for my neighbors. I've complained about them here before, and I'm going to do it again. Yesterday in between my shifts, as I walked home, I saw a crazy stir of flies right by the walkway to the house. Oh god, could this be Tabitha, I thought? (Tabitha is their declawed house cat that they make live outdoors). No, it wasn't as awful as that, instead, it was a pile of spaghetti with meat sauce. Nowhere near the trash can that was sitting fifteen feet away on the curb (which wasn't even picked up, I'm starting to get mad at the trash men too, but I'll leave that for later). This complete disregard for well, everything is infuriating. There's also the room sized rug they've had on the curb for more than a month, the trash bags they leave on the ground to rot when one of our two cans are full.... FUCK! When I go outside this afternoon, if I see a pile of spaghetti still, I'm gonna lose my shit. It's clearly not our spaghetti. We haven't had spaghetti in weeks.

I did make an amazing dinner last night, though. Pan seared rainbow trout with whipped sweet potatoes, roasted marshmallows, and finished with a pecan shallot brown butter. It was the best thing I've ever made.

1 comment:

Walt Mitty said...

You're killing me, Smalls!