Okay. So, I saw Sunset Rubdown at Music Hall of Williamsburg last night and I hated it. I hated it for a number of reasons which I will get into in a moment.
I would like to start, however by saying I really like Sunset Rubdown. I like Sunset Rubdown more than Wolf Parade. I tend to fall on the Spencer Krug side of things almost always when the Krug/Broekner debates go down (mostly in my head. I don’t actually think I’ve debated this with another living person ever). I like Sunset Rubdown’s second record “Random Spirit Lover” so much that when I think of which records I would write a 33 1/3 book for, it comes up top five. (NOTE: I will write a 33 1/3 book one day, mark my words America). I enjoy that record so much that I would have really loved to have heard some songs from it last night at their show, the one that was on the tour supporting “Random Spirit Lover”…presumably. But, I didn’t.
Because Spencer Krug is a dick.
Now, I can’t say this for certain. I’ve never met Spencer Krug personally, so he has never been afforded the opportunity to actually be a dick to me, but he was certainly a dick to the audience that paid $15 to see him last night.
Here’s the thing, I actually feel guilty complaining about the fact that Sunset Rubdown played virtually all new songs last night. I know, I’m “supposed” to like when bands do that, or at least pretend to like it because I appreciate music, man. But, I don’t. I hate it. Everybody hates it. They may pretend they don’t hate it, but they do. They hate it. You hate it.
Here’s a test: Let’s say you were at the Sunset Rubdown show and you really had to pee. When would you pee? during some song you’ve never heard or during “Up On Your Leopard” (which they didn’t play)?
Now, it’s not only that they played so much new stuff it’s the way they did it. Krug establishes early on that this is his m.o. for the evening after the third song. He opens the next song by saying something along the lines of “this is a new song, you’re gonna be hearing a lot of that tonight.” And not in a nice way. What he was saying was “Listen, I don’t give a shit what you want to hear I’m a fucking artist and I defy expectations. I do what I want to do, so suck it fans of my band.” At least that’s what I heard.
I felt open contempt from him towards his audience and I’m pretty sure he didn’t smile once. Have fun, dude.
It was so pretentious. He kept saying “we’re professional musicians” which may not seem pretentious when you read it, but it was. Just trust me. Okay? They also had, like these little pretentious lamps on some of their equipment and at one point he asked the people at the venue if they could turn the lights down.
The nerve. Fuck him. “Could you turn the lights down, they’re bothering me. Oh, the fans? The fans who paid fifteen dollars to see my band during this terrible recession and will no doubt plunk another $20 down on drinks because let’s face it how do you go to a show and not drink? I don’t care if they can see me. I’m not even playing any songs they know anyway.”
Listen up Spencer Krug, you want to play a whole show of new songs. Fine. I don’t care. But fucking let me know, dude. I’ll just skip it.
Oh and also, you fucking made me miss 90210 jerk-off.