No Fucking Future

I haven't felt old a show for a while, probably since I lived in Salt Lake City and used to see bands play Kilby Court. I felt kind of old last night, but not too old.

I saw Los Campesinos! and Titus Andronicus last night at the Bowery Ballroom. Both of these acts (especially Los Campesinos) are two kinds of bands you can get regularly shit on for liking around here, even though nobody blinked an eye when I wrote without a trace of irony about the genius of Leona Lewis. One of the reasons people shit on Los Campesinos is because the have, like, seven people in their band. The more the merrier, no? Somehow, taste in music works like this. It's also worth noting that these are the kinds of bands that *actual* critics regularly shit on (yet, somehow, are immune to whatever trappings bands like these have to get critics to hate them).

I probably shouldn't mention that Titus Andronicus - as it was their last show of the tour - closed their set by covering Green Day's Worst Song, "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" with the Campesinos' violinist, because you might think it was intentionally ironic, or totally sincere (and thus: ironic in context). There's no way I could reasonably articulate the fact that it was justified, and smart, and rightly done, so I won't. But it was nice.

I kept on my toes. And I did some screaming, which, you know, I forgot how much fun that is. They're both kinda scream-y bands. Anyway, I didn't think anybody had anything interesting to say about relationships after I listened to The National for most of last year, and then stopped listening to music all together for a few months, and then I stopped listening to everything. Anyway, this song made me feel better, as nihilist art often strangely does for some of us.

Los Campesinos!, We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed