Arts & Entertainment

Final Fantasy With Great Lake Swimmers and Basia Bulat

Richard's on Richards, October 20, 2007

By Luke Simcoe, A&E Editor

A, open letter to the guy who felt the need to tell me to “be quiet” and to “stop moving around” during the Great Lake Swimmers’ set:

I am terribly sorry that I ruined your concert-going experience. I was clearly so obnoxiously drunk that I must have wandered into a night at the opera at the Vogue Theatre and mistook it for an indie-rock concert. I am also sorry that you took my offer of earplugs and attempts to chastise the crowd for cheering in between songs as mockery. I had no idea that you had “waited forever” to catch the band, and if I could take back all those shouts through cupped hands to my lady friend, or the revolting motions of unpacking my camera, I sincerely would. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it, please let me know. I believe my contact information is contained in this humble paper’s masthead.

Seriously, though... Where do you get off? You didn’t buy my ticket, so why do you think it’s appropriate to tell me how to enjoy the show? Furthermore, just how ignorant are you of what happens at these so-called “concerts?” If you wanted a quiet and personal moment with your precious

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indie band, you should have stayed at home, put on some headphones, and made sweet love to your iPod underneath the covers. Concerts draw crowds. Crowds make noise. And move around. Shocking, I know.

What really grinds my gears is that the band you were expressing such a

meets-Jewel voice and deceptively intricate arrangements were at least as worthy —if not more—of praise and adoration, yet your persistent nagging at the crowd to be quiet was nowhere to be found.

Perhaps you noticed that the crowd was much quieter during Final Fantasy.

reverence Actually, for wasn’ ° d evenint “Aside from the band, thous. you ‘ood. ° robabl i don’t the loudest noise I _ kian't notice know what In fact, const hear d was you and tence grounds i the band, — | your group of friends te london — shushing people and __ vasyouana e your group sure that nT , of friend: ee complaining during 7 chord almost every song.” sei :

progressions, sentimental lyrics, and a complete lack of charisma aren’t it. In fact, I’m pretty sure that the crowd was engaged in idle chatter because the Great Lake Swimmers weren’t holding their attention.

Where were you during Basia Bulat’s set? The Torontonian’s Shakira-

during almost every song. It’s kind of hypocritical if you’re making as much noise—or more—than the people you’ re imploring to be quiet. It’s a shame that you failed to see the crowd paying their respect to a much more talented act. Owen Pallett’s quasi-classical violin compositions, skill with loop pedals,

and narrative lyrics are actually worth shutting up for—if shutting up is what you’ re into. Not to mention the fact that the visuals— provided via an overhead projector manned by artist Stephanie Comulang—were a captivating example of low-tech beauty. Mr. Pallett had the whole stage presence thing down too. He bantered with the audience, accepted a shot of Jagermeister from an adoring fan, and joked that he thought that Brian (Devon Gummersall) was hotter than “that 30 Seconds to Mars douche-bag” on My So-Called Life.

And speaking of douche-bags, it’s pretentious ones like you who stand motionless with their arms crossed at shows that make people think that hipsters and indie fans are a bunch of pretentious douche-bags who stand around motionless with their arms crossed at shows. The idea that music must be put on a pedestal to be enjoyed is an antiquated, bourgeoisie point of view.

In closing, I’d like to offer some words of advice: be careful whom you choose to shush at a concert; you never know if they’ll turn out to be a writer.

Sincerely,

Luke Simcoe