Mitch so graciously invited me to a show last night. Deep in the
Tenderloin, The Fucking Champs rocked my drunk away. Yes, I was drunk
(or heavily buzzed, depending on the way you look at it) by about 3pmsunday afternoon. Thats what Sunday Football watching will get ya.
They
are a different type of music I generally purchase tickets to go see.
No vocals. Skinny shirtless long haired musicians. Wait, that was the
opening band.Eeh, its hard to really tell them apart because they essentially sound the same.
Its interesting going to a show. You could hear the cd
fifty billion times and think its fucking fantastic. Then you see their
show and realize, although the songs may be great and catchy, they all
sound the damn same. They break at the same time. Build the same way.
Tempo never changes. Andthats when I sort of reach a point of disappointment. I feel like I got cheated, or even tricked in a way. That the whole time I sang along with, and raved about the cd, it was all the same one song, with different lyrics.
On another thought. When did mostasches become the new long haired shag? They are everywhere. Gross.