I’ve learned that what I’m doing is crazy. Not just from an outsider’s perspective where a young middle class girl waits for the very moment she turns eighteen to run off with a rock band, dye her hair darker, and get a tattoo. That’s just an empty bullshit way to slant it. The insanity isn’t in that. The quintessence of what I do is what makes my career and myself ultimately nonsense because I am an artist, and the art I make isn’t tangible. You can touch a seven inch record, a CD, or a Sleeper Agent shirt but those aren’t things I created. I’m in the business of making noise, and that is truly insane. But so are we. You have to be mad to do this and to do it relentlessly. If it isn’t some sort of obsession or addiction the act of playing music is nothing more than a hobby.
so i had to go up to san francisco last week for work, and may or may not have booked travel around the sleeper agent show @ brick and mortar.
(let me preface by saying that i’m obsessed with their new record, and had already seen them @ bootleg theater in LA the previous week. also note that i’m 32, which means i’m a good 16 years past the teenage infatuation part of my life.)
the show KILLED (evidence here) — it’s not often you get to see your new favorite band in a small club, let alone twice in a span of little more than a week. but what’s even cooler is what happened afterward (afterwards?…whatever). i got a chance to meet their singer, alex, at the merch table…here’s a somewhat abridged version of our conversation:
ME: hi, i’m ray. awesome show!
ALEX: i’m alex, thanks! i like your jacket
[i take off my jacket and hand it to her]
ME: here, try it on
[alex tries on jacket]
ME: you should keep it!
ALEX: ah no, i can’t — it’s a nice jacket
ME: i’d be honored if you kept it!
i’m not sure if this is normal artist-fan protocol (actually, i’m pretty sure it isn’t) but it made perfect sense to me. the band rules. they could have taken my last dollar for gas money and i would have been just as happy walking the 4mi back to my hotel. oh, and i also got this rad CD:
i guess that’s all there really is to the story…in the end, i left SF with a little less laundry but arrived in LA much happier. i’ve tried to psychoanalyze myself in the days since…not quite sure what it all means, other than the fact that i wear girl-sized clothes, and that my therapist likes to tie things back to my childhood (which i have little recollection of).
fast forward to yesterday…i found some flickr photos of sleeper agent’s recent show in salt lake and saw that the jacket was indeed being put to good use: