Martin Atkins in DA HOUSE! Alcohol in MY BLOODSTREAM!

[illusionofjoy]

As most denizens of that institution known as the Pittsburgh "Goth scene" are well aware of at this point, industrial legend Martin Atkins guest DJed at Ceremony last night. As this was a once-in-a-lifetime deal, I was eagerly anticipating his set. Not only that, but I was told that he would be doing a spoken-word piece as well.

I was not disappointed. Atkins' DJ set was beautifully fucked-up and creative. I am not usually one to give a DJ credit insofar as actually being an artist, but this man is most definitely an exception (for obvious reasons). His spoken word set that followed the music was hilarious, to say the least. He started with a story about his experiences with Cynthia Plaster-Caster, followed by his "Fucklist." It was pure brilliance!

I'd like to say that the night was completely flawless, but that unfortunately was not true. When missjoi and I arrived at the club, she started activating equipment only to find a CD jammed inside of the player. Since the offending disc would not come out, obviously preventing music from being played, beeporama was called and asked if his mobile DJing unit could be borrowed for the night. Thankfully he was able to save the day, so to speak.

Not so easy to rectify were the attitudes of certain people at Ceremony - especially during the spoken word set. While Martin Atkins was DJing, people generally kept their mouths shut, from what I noticed. In fact, there were plenty of people dancing to what he spun. However, once the spoken word started, the sheer stupidity of some in attendance at the club shown brighter than a thousand flames.

For the spoken word set, Atkins came out of the booth onto the dance floor with a microphone. He told everybody to gather around and those who were interest did (Joi and I were right up front along with pegritz and several others). The spoken word began, and as he was speaking, from behind the group of people gathered to hear Martin Atkins' words we could hear the dull roar of excessively loud conversation. Apparently these ingrates had no control of their voices, which would have allowed them to have the courtesy to let others more easily hear what was being said by the man with the microphone. I'm not going to crucify people for not being interested, but I do take objection when those who aren't interested encroach on the rights of those who are.

That still wasn't as bad as those children in the club who, being unable to see past their latest Marilyn Manson albums, screamed, "shut up and play some fucking music" during the spoken-word. That made my blood boil. As Joi put it, "how often do you have the chance to come so close to a legend?" These kids don't know how well they have it.

I did have a chance to chat briefly with Martin Atkins after his set was finished. I told him that I enjoyed his DJ set and spoken word pieces. He informed me that he usually does the spoken word pieces in more intimate settings, such as coffee shops so that they have the chance to evolve from monologues into full-fledged conversations. Obviously this wasn't going to happen at Ceremony, but it struck me as a good idea to bring the audience into the performance - to elevate the art to a higher level.

I also got my picture taken with him, which I just think rocks!

---

After Ceremony, Joi and I went to a party hosted by trhodes. I enjoyed myself, getting fully plastered and talking philosophy with T and others. Unfortunately, when I get drunk my memory becomes akin to Swiss cheese, so if anyone would like to fill me in on what was said or done last night...or maybe not...

I had a good time, but Joi was in a mood that night. We ended up leaving a little early. I honestly don't blame her though, looking back on the events that transpired before and after Ceremony. Firstly, she was responsible for Beeporama's mobile DJ unit, which had to be transported in the front seat of her car. Obviously we were not going to be taking this expensive piece of equipment to any parties or leaving it "exposed" to vehicular break-ins.

We stopped by Joi's apartment, pulling into her driveway only to find at least a dozen drunk jocks standing on her street corner. To me, this was like seeing a powder keg. One never knows what drunk jocks are going to do in a given situation, but usually it involves some form of physical violence. Had it just been the two of us needing to stop by the apartment it wouldn't have been so bad, but our friend, the mobile DJ unit, still sat in the front seat at this point. Carting expensive pieces of equipment in front of drunk jocks - who had this point had begun punching at each other - is what I generally classify as "a bad idea."

After ten minutes of waiting for this crowd of assholes to disburse, Joi and I finally decided to call the police on my cell phone, in the hopes that the mere sight of a police car in the neighbourhood would make them scurry away. I called 911, and attempted to explain the situation to the dispatcher. Of course, this would have been much easier had the woman on the other end of the line had allowed me to finish my sentences before interrupting me with another question. At the very least though, I was told that a car would be sent out to check out the situation, which rectified itself in the form of everyone walking away about five minutes after I had finished the call.

It was a full moon last night, which must have had a great deal to do with the insanity Joi and I saw on the streets. I was glad that we were driving to a place outside of Pittsburgh where fewer cars containing people desperate to get to the after-hours bars were on the road. At one point, a tailgating wolf pack of four vehicles had creeped up behind us. All of them were weaving in and out of lanes and the lead vehicle was following so closely that had I needed to brake, the car would have been rear-ended. The drivers were not paying attention to the road, opting instead to look each passenger in the face as they conversed. Thankfully these cars passed us without incident.

Joi and I ended up back at my apartment where we slept most of the day. And yes, she drove me there, because unlike the cretins we saw on the road earlier I know not to attempt driving when I'm intoxicated.

Since tomorrow is Columbus Day, a bank holiday, I don't have to go to work tonight. I'm thankful for that, as I don't really feel up to going to work anyhow. I do, however, feel like taking a nap. END TRANS

Comments

[icouldhavelied.livejournal.com]

sigh.
thanks for the review, i'm bummed i missed such a good set. i've had a really shitty week and as my car was in the shop, walking to ceremony through north oakland to get there seemed a very bad idea.
thanks again for the review!

[illusion-of-joy.livejournal.com]

You're welcome.

By the way, who are you and how did you find me? Curiousity, you know...