In the first of the evening's performances, Anson projected a succession of images of circles against multi-colored backdrops accompanied by sounds that sounded like "ooohs" and "ahhhh" (with one sequence somehow corresponding to the text of Keats' "Ode to a Nightingale"). The experience was designed to evoke synesthesia, "a condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another, as when the hearing of a sound produces the visualization of a color." The room was filled with a number of scenesters who, having read the Pitch's piece on the performance, no doubt believed that they would be smelling colors and hearing numbers. Did it work for the boys?
Chip: "It left a taste in my mouth all right, and it tasted like confusion."
Richard: "As Johnson said of Milton's Paradise Lost, 'None ever wished it longer than it is,' and I was also disappointed that the piece I witnessed was completely lacking in robots, at least in the part of the evening that I witnessed. If I had been stoned, however, or otherwise tripping balls, I suspect I might have enjoyed the piece a bit more."
And thanks to Anson his own self for sending us a link with much better sound to "Robot Party." Here's the address. PLEASE watch this:
After a summer spent reading bleak, post-modern fiction (such as Adam Ross's Mr. Peanut), we're turning this week to something lighter: Rob Sheffield's new series of essays on his love of 80's music called Talking to Girls About Duran Duran: One Young Man's Quest for True Love and a Cooler Haircut (a book that our friend Captain Chanute has vowed to read based on its title alone). Publishers Weekly calls it "a collection of free-form riffs on the glorious foolishness of Reagan-era entertainment...and its weirdly resonant emotional impact. The result is a funny, poignant browse from a wonderful pop-culture evocateur."
To capitalize on the popularity of such nostalgic material, the boys are working on their own memoirs regarding music's impact on their formative years. The working title of Richard's is Straight Outta Romance, Arkansas: Gangsta Rap in Garth Brooks Country, which relates the tale of how Richard's brief obsession with playing loud rap music in the town's parking lot forced an entire community to come to terms with its engrained racism (yes, the book is largely fiction). Chip's is called Back When Nothing Was Better Than Ezra: My Kansas 90's, which he describes as a "mood piece about one small-town boy's sexual awakening set to the strains of early 90's alternative rock."