Money for Nothing and Your Chicks for Free

K and A Out On The Town

A: Well, well, well, here we are again.
It's Sunday night and we're way early
for the Hope of The States show. Hey
K, do know anything about this band?
(As Sting plays on, I hope it’s only
foreground music and not foreshad-
owing of the music to come).

K: What I know about this band
could fit on one of my fingernails.
They're supposed to be something like
the Verve, or Radiohead, plus (big
plus) they’re all incredibly attractive.

A: Ew, the thought of things being
written on your fingernail reminds me
of Twin Peaks. This place is so sparse,
and the one measly smoke machine
isn't adding atmosphere. Instead it’s
making me think someone dropped
their cigarette. I just don't get it.
(Pause for Jagermeister and a search

for awkward boys).

K: As a surprise opening act, (some
group called Autolux was supposed to
play) Run Chico Run is actually a real-
ly great band. They’re not pretending
that they're hip and cool just ‘cause
they know how to play music. It’s like
they're two nerds who just

happen to have nice,
smooth voices (both of
them—how awesome is

that?).

A: Agreed; Ill drink to
the two-man band...or I
would if drinks at
Richard’s On Richards
werent $7 a pop; what
the hell, this one’s for
Run Chico Run!

K: I know, I know. Since
when do three Jagers cost
$20? And this place is
sort of an embarrassment.
Richard’s On Richards
has this huge, expansive
dance floor, and it’s only
being used for people to
tramp across looking for their friends
(or someone to be their friend?).

Stop. We are interrupting this rambling
for a short news flash. The lead singer of
Hope Of The States just made a demand
that the bad Sting songs be obliterated.

I | OUNEPPPESS

 

And what do they replace
it with? The Clash.
Thank you Richard's On
Richards. Now the Jagers
are a happy bonus, not a
necessity.

A: Yes, thank
you...once again, cute
lead singer saves the
day. Ah, why do I think
this crap, and then take
the time to write it
down? Anyway, here
come Hope Of The
States and all of a sud-
den there are people on
the dance floor...poor
Run Chico Run. Ah,
but I can't help but laugh
at their hipster poses.

K: Holy fuck, I don’t even care about
their hipster poses. I hope I get really
depressed soon, or better yet, discover
that I’m terminally ill, so I can just lie
there staring at the death-white walls
with this music playing. I desperately

Hope of the States

want to have a near death experience
so that it makes sense for me to love
feeling like my heart’s going to stop.
Hope Of The States has left me gasp-
ing with only their first song.

A: It’s been a long time since I’ve died,
but the parade visuals could be my

 

death march. Yet no one in the crowd
is moving—are we all trying not to be
seen?

K: I think the experience can be
described in one word—awe. One of
the guitar players is using a bow, they
have an eerie violin player, and the
visuals are coming dangerously close
to reminding me of the sex zombie
movie I watched today. I would suck
the abscess out of any member of the
bands teeth (everyone knows English
boys have bad teeth—it’s all that tea,
they can’t help it).

A: Well although I can’t make out a
single lyric, the visuals and the music
speak to the point that words are no
longer necessary. I’m speechless; and I
don’t say that lightly, ‘cause I can talk
a lot.

K: Yeah, that’s very true. Shut up
already, it’s my turn. That last screen
clip was like The Little Prince meets
our very own Red Meat. I haven't fall-
en in love with a band in a long time
(last week doesn’t count—that was
lust).

A: There are times when what needs to
be said is, by its nature, impossible to
put into words, and for all those in
between there is music, and art, and
there is poetry. Not to sound like a
New Age freak but this band maybe
not fills, but lives in the gaps where
the only chance of greatness lies.

 

 

Lr

Hope of the States

K: Yes, yes, yes. This band knows what
we need more than the waitress at
Bon’s knows that I'll always ask for
onion rings instead of hash browns. I
cant help but feel that they're disap-
pointed in us, though (Hope Of The
States, not the onion rings). They
think we can't comprehend it, or we
just don’t like good music. They just
dont understand that it’s in
Vancouverites’ nature to stand in eter-
nal stillness when we see something
that’s so wonderful it makes us blush.
(A and K stop writing due to an over-
load of Jager and intensity).

A: I’m sorry, K, that I couldn’t answer
you in the moment, but I was over-
whelmed. Overtaken by the music,
and the visuals beyond music, and the
guy who came up to me and asked if I
understood the alphabet. And now
much later (and much drunker) on
the bus #3 home, all I can think of to
say is thank God (if there is a God)
that we didn’t go to Mesa Luna to see
Tegan and Sara. And all I know is how
lucky I feel to have been there tonight
to see Hope Of The States. It woke
something up in me that I didn’t even
know was asleep. And now here we
are, and what do we do now that we
are awake?

K: Hmmm, something to think
about. I think if I died in my sleep
tonight, it would be OK.

SEPHEMDEF 28/A000