Tuesday is the New Funday

I know I often bitch about Victoria's music scene - or lack thereof - because we don't get a fraction of the tour action Vancouver sees. True, there is little likelihood that Sigur Ros or Bloc Party will ever grace us with their presence, but to be fair, things are looking up for the next few months. Shout Out Out Out Out, Wintersleep (sold out before I got my damn ticket, so internet machine, bring me some ticket karma), Elliott Brood, Chad Vangaalen, Attack in Black (so much better live than recorded) and the Dears are on my to-do list, and with the lovely Otto making her way back from Deutschland in a month my good -time-lady-posse will be nicely rounded out. I'm priming up for some shoegazing with intermittent bouts of ass shaking. Thank God for Atomique Productions.

The Von Bondies show a few weeks ago shook me out of my bitching phase. First, The Racoons (Their choice to miss a c, not mine) left me wishing I'd hurried my ass up and gotten there earlier. Victoria has birthed some fantastic talent, and The Racoons seem poised to take the local hero status left vacant with Wolf Parade's move east. They're catchy as hell, tight on stage, and have some really trampy fans. Recipe for success? I think so.

I also ran into an old friend from high school - really more the super-awesome-arty-I-want-to-be-like-her-but-am-just-not-cool girlcrush from high school. And of course I completely dorked out, because that's what I do. And of course, she's still awesome and crushable, because that's who she is. We were chatting and a very attractive dude comes over, and she says "Don, this is my old friend Melissa. She came to see your band." Yeah, that would have been Don Blum, the Von Bondies' drummer. Friends with the Von Bondies from her year in Detroit .... further proof that, while the so called popular douchbags peak around 18 and wither into paunchy balding disasters, the arty awesome kids keep on that trajectory through life. And she did her Brenda Walsh face for me. Girlcrush, reactivated.

I started right at the front, because I love me some flinging band sweat, but, due to a gimpy back from a tumble down the stairs, and well, a bitchin' case of The Thirties, I had to retreat back a bit when the kids got all whipped up frenzylike. Moshing? They still do that? It sort of freaked me out that when I was going through my moshy phase most of the crowd was in the kindergarten to grade 3 range. Shudder.

Anyhow, Von Bondies, fantastic live. And this song, this one song, as I said to the friend I was with, is the soundtrack for a night you are out too late and drink too much and are probably a little high and are working your way out of your clothes before you hit the apartment door and have totally Quentin Tarantino movie sex with someone who's maybe a little dangerous and totally wrong for you ... Or that's how it struck me at the time. Not so much in the comfort of my bathrobe and living room, but live, oh hells yeah.

Daily Sound: Von Bondies - Sound of Terror. Listen here. Yes, I know it links to Amazon, but it's not on the Von Bondies MySpace, and I am disinclined to dick around looking for a cooler link.

On the way home we had a killer cab driver who was blogging on his iPhone when he picked us up. I forgot about it until now, but I just found his blog, diaryofataxidriver, and am glad I did, because it makes me want to dig out my Diana and Supersampler and take pretty, surreal photos of my friends. So, thank you taxi driver.