Musical times.

Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros sing a song called Home. My friend listened to it when she moved into her new apartment for her second year of university and cried. We know it from the Lair, when they sang the lyrics slightly altered in favour of blue-ness - 'home is whenever I'm at blue'. It's funny how they pronounce the words and that's fascinating because it helps the song get hooked into your mind like it'll never let go.

I've never been surprised to find myself at a gig before in quite the same way. One minute I'm at Eli's goodbye party laughing at how much ketchup i can manage to get on my face and the next CAKE is before me in all their glory. Took me a good while to realise they'd been recommended to me ages ago by someone or other. Still not sure who it was except I'm sure it was a guy, and he was tall. On reflection, I realise that the reason I don't love them is because they're way better live than recorded. Much more my kind of thing live. More acoustic, to be honest, more music and less simple rhythms.

Strangest way to whip up a crowd though. The organisers had not left enough space for the crowd which turned up so we had to slip around the side. The main guy looked down at us all, divided us unequally with his arm and told us to hate each other. He said
- the world is unequal.
- there are two kinds of people, those who are with us and are full of hatred, and those who are against us and do not care.
- yell it like you have the purity of anger in you. (or something along those lines)
- (points at the people singing lyrics about flying) you are the existentialists. (points at those singing about not being there) you guys are the angry ones.

I could see his point. It was in Oakland, which is supposed to be a sketchy kind of area, and yet a load of pretty middle class people had rolled up, and they weren't all that young, generally. There were some kids, sure, but I was definitely among the young minority. Generally they looked to be thirty somethings, with a good scattering of twenty year olds and about a quarter of the audience were middle aged. CAKE was standing there wondering where their time was gone. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Some of their song lyrics caused thoughts in my head as any words/ideas/whatever will, but of themselves they're nothing to pause over. 'I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket'. Do you now. I'm so pleased, good luck with that, goodbye. 'Fingernails that shine like justice'. Huh. Since when did justice shine, and if it does, I prefer matte nail varnish, so we're going to have to part ways right there.

The trumpet guy was awesome though. And the main singer waved at me when I left. Left early, that is. Also, he gave some guy a tree, and the tree guy followed me on the BART (bay area rapid transport) which was kind of funny. He was struggeling a bit, carrying it home. Poor thing promised in front of a good 600 witnesses to plant it and look after it and post photos of it to CAKE on pain of them all storming his house.

I miss the mountains. See them next weekend. What will I do without them for at least a whole year? I shall have to investigate Scottish ones further, I guess. This holiday is ridiculously long. It's no longer a holiday, actually. It's a pretty pleasant and varied state of being. Can't wait to go on holiday to 'home', wherever that is. The strangely big house which I might paint strange patterns onto, maybe. Or maybe it's just where my family are. Or where my friends are. Or where my boyfriend is. (Aha.) How cliched can I go? 'Home is where the heart is' well what about where the soul is? If we're disregarding the body, that is. And anyway is that really accurate? Could it be where your stuff is? Where you are currently living (existing. sleeping. stuff.) as that's really your territory, so biologically... although that can change so quickly. Fuck the concept of home. It doesn't even make sense. Once you find it, you just want to see the rest of the world. Go tend to your back garden, fool.

(That's not directed at anyone! Traveling expands the mind! Everyone should do it! For an entire year!)

People who meet me once add me on facebook. This is fine, it is good. It is a little strange, perhaps. Not on a personal scale, but as a phenomenon. Some of them I feel like I'd like to know more about them. Most of them it was weird when they asked me my last name so that they could find me. If we have friends in common, fair enough. If there's even the most remote chance I'll see them again, alright. If we live on the opposite sides of the world, have very different futures as discussed, little in common except youth, and they've been creeping me out for the whole trip, then it's less than ideal that they've stalked me to my facebook.

Now listening to 'Harmony'. Lair version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suB8ktM4-mU. Suddenly can see what Dylan meant about it not quite working with these singers. I can't find who it's by (I could look in my special Lair songbook because I'm that cool, but it's gone back to England with the sister.) so I'll just listen to Peter, Paul and Mary's 'Don't think twice it's alright' rendition. Aw. Wow have I listened to different types of music today. M C Hammer was... invisible. Surrounded by dancing people. Can't touch him...? Can't even bloody see the guy.

Blue has all washed out of my hair.