Stuff.

Dec. 11th, 2010 02:54 pm
leahbobet: (bat signal)
1) Thus endeth one of the busier months per year at the Dayjob.

2) To celebrate that, saw Broken Social Scene and Superchunk Thursday night with [livejournal.com profile] mykwud, who was gracious enough to take the second ticket on short notice (it originally belonged to Dr. My Roommate, but she is unwell at the moment). This'll be a short version of the usual show report, since I didn't write it up that night and since we left during what we thought was the last song and then I found out later they kept playing until 1:45 in the morning. Oops. But anyways.

Sound Academy is sort of redeeming itself as a venue for me, even though they have a constricted, sad beer selection and it's all the way out in the docklands and you have to walk half an hour in the cold through industrial nothingness to get out there if you don't have a car. Usually when I'm at things there they haven't done anything with the back of the room, and it sort of feels like a long deserted hallway. This time, because it was a BSS show, they had a long merch table, Amnesty International, a whole art display/auction thing from a non-profit that runs arts programs for street kids or at-risk kids (and a lot of the art was really, really good) and a video display thing for another one. They were also taking donations for the food bank at the door. Yes, this is a Broken Social Scene show.

I didn't know the opener more than glancingly (Mike did) but it was a really nice, danceable kind of early-nineties alternative set: kind of in the Limblifter/Age of Electric/Treble Charger sort of constellation of things.

Then! There was Broken Social Scene!

(Leah, you ask, didn't you see this band in the summer and write up a whole squeefaced concert report then? Yes. Yes I did. And next time they do a hometown show I will see them again. And the time after that. And the only reason I didn't go to the second date they played at the same venue last night was because my legs were very, very tired from all the dancing I did the night before and I ended up having to eat THIS MUCH protein and crash into bed early and sleep late to feel normal this morning.)

In terms of my Songs I Like bingo card, I got most everything but Major Label Debut (below) and All My Friends, and danced until my legs didn't work (as above). Highlights: original-style version of Almost Crimes, nice long Superconnected, string-and-horn-filled Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl (made me cry in the good way; always does), Sweetest Kill, which is a song I now have a lot more appreciation for, and on the top all-time list, Lover's Spit done just piano and voice by Kevin Drew, with the entire rest of the instrumentation coming in halfway through on the bridge. And the crowd singing most of it. And...oh. :)

It's actually entirely possible they played Major Label Debut later; we had an agreement that when it looked like the last song before the encore, we'd go get the coats, because otherwise you spend an hour in the coat check line. And then we ended up not staying for the encore because we were both hungry and exhausted and wobbly and had to still walk half an hour back to civilization to catch the streetcar, so we staggered back through Scary Industrial Desolate Lakefront Toronto, passing a vitamin water and a bag of Sunchips back and forth, jaywalking indiscriminately, and being ridiculously hyper. Little did I know until the next day that they played until 1:45 in the morning. Yes. You heard that right.

I'm a little miffed about that, but to be fair, I was legitimately tired and out of go and had filled up the concert tank more than adequately. And had to work the next day. I am old, I am old, I will wear my trousers rolled etc. etc. whatever.

Have samples:



This is last night's show, not the Thursday show, but it's the same song and the same venue and you get the idea:



Yes, the crowd sang along on my night too. :)

Oh, here's the one I was at. I'm a little back and to the right there!



...so that was Thursday. :)

3) Back in our everyday lives that aren't actually all about Broken Social Scene, the fantabulous [livejournal.com profile] csecooney interviewed me about Ideomancer for the Black Gate blog. It's mostly about this issue and the process of making it, as well as my own personal history with the magazine, but there are some bits about what we look for if you are the sort of person who cares about such things.

4) [livejournal.com profile] stillsostrange's second novel, The Bone Palace, came out this week. I picked it up on Thursday and am, so far, about two chapters in. Amanda can write like whoah. You should read it.

5) While I'm in the Amazon links thing, Chilling Tales, the anthology which "Stay" is going to be in, is available for preorder at Amazon. The release date's March 1st otherwise. It has a cover that looks like Nick Cave's bald guy mullet, true, but it contains some of the brighter lights of Canadian horror fiction and will be well worth your time. Apparently there are going to be some events for it when it comes out too, at World Horror Con and around town here. Stay tuned.

6) A new episode of Shadow Unit came out this week too: "Uniform". It is 30,000-plus words of WTF goodness and a bit of stunt-writing besides.

7) My brain's still chewing on that short story I mentioned a bit back. Don't spook it.

8) I am going to the circus tonight. I would say "If I get everything done here, I am going to the circus tonight," but this would fool nobody. I'm going anyways.


Such is the week that was. And now to send slush, answer e-mail, and go to the circus.
This afternoon I am skipping out on The Toronto Specfic Colloquium and eating cheese (apricot stilton) and crackers (fig olive Raincoast Crisps) in my pajamas, because I have not really been home all week except to sleep, and not enough of that got done either. Even when this means doing impeccably fun stuff in and around the usual Dayjob activity, this can be stressful and eventually one's dishes do need washing.

What did get done?

A Brazilian barbeque outing. Dance class.

A book launch for Amy Lavender Harris's Imagining Toronto, which is an academic book about how Toronto is reflected in literature written about it and set in it. This is enough to make me geek out and buy myself ten signed copies all by itself, but doubly so because she talks about my "Midnights on the Bloor Viaduct" in it. Eeeee. :)

Mark Lanegan and Isobel Campbell in concert at Lee's Palace, which was not precisely what I was expecting -- apparently their second album together went really country -- but was saved by the encore (Wedding Dress! Revolver! Whee!) and the company.

Some extra-credit Dayjob work helping with a Canadian Parliamentary conference yesterday, which meant getting to watch their presentations on stuff like how PEI is coping with global warming and a particular point of political strategy involving private member's bills. This is probably not interesting to you, but after two years at Dayjob, it is interesting to me. Also, I found out that there's a lighthouse on PEI that is, no kidding, an inn that you can stay in. You can sleep in the actual lighthouse tower, right on the coast, right next to the ocean. I shit you not.

I am falling over with writing retreat lust.

Last night, Tokyo Police Club and Phoenix in concert at the Ricoh; they put rubber tile thingies on what's normally hockey ice to make a dance floor and had both a floor section and stadium seats. And this was what I was expecting: happy and bouncy and full of guitar and enough bass to make my ribs vibrate and the tip of my nose itch. I didn't take pictures: we were too busy dancing every stressful thing from the last week down to a puddle on the floor. But have a sample.





Phoenix did this sweet little three-song acoustic bit in the middle of the dance floor, where the sound boards were set up: now it's an arena show! Now it's an intimate venue! Presto! It was really nice, and very deeply French in a way I can't pinpoint for you. And while Dr. My Roommate was a little ambivalent about the "Now we will be experimental rock people!" thing that preceded it, I was fully on board.


There are two shows tonight I could be going to, one stand-up-and-dance, one sit-down-and-get-squished-because-it's-Massey-Hall. I am probably bailing on both. The allure of my jammies is strong, and after all this, an evening in knitting and watching bad TV is probably indicated.


Note that at no point during this post did I mention the word revising. :D


I should just go to the coffeeshop to work in the first place. Yesterday? I faffed around, managed about 15 pages, took two (2) naps (okay, I think I'm fighting a cold or sleep debt or something here. I felt seriously unwell yesterday) and still crawled off to bed early. Today? Went out to the patio at Aroma with the laptop to soak up some of the nice weather, and blew through sixty (yes, that's 60) pages in three and a half hours.

Tomorrow I will just go to the coffeeshop.

Also, note the stunning and crisp picture quality off the camera in my new cellphone. *smug*


For our next trick, Dr. My Roommate and I shall head out to see one of her friends play a bossa nova set over on Markham. Because sixty (60!) pages of revising in one afternoon means you earn the right to be out in Society a little bit.
New personal thesis statement. Or new formulation of ongoing personal thesis statement:



This weekend so far I have enacted the thesis staement by buying a new pair of Fluevogs (these, to replace the pair of Mary Janes which succumbed to old age this week), narrowly avoiding another pair of Fluevogs (so! purple!), bringing home a green feather fascinator and tea and cheeses, and throwing our housewarming party with Dr. My Roommate. Our housewarming party was very good. We had music and head-to-head Dr. Mario on the NES and snacks and silly nametags and goodly amounts of people crammed into our living room drinking champagne and rum and mango iced tea until the subway stopped running. Breakfast this morning was leftover pita and hummus and fruit, while paging through Ideomancer slush in fuzzy pajamas.

This afternoon is the last of the party cleanup (minimal), scrubbing out the inbox, and work on the edit letter; maybe edit letter out of doors if I charge up the laptop and am inclined to go to Aroma. And then there's a free USS show in the evening.

This is a good kind of life to be living.


Okay, kettle's on. Dishes, e-mails, and then words.
leahbobet: (milk?)
There is whole wheat almond bread in the machine, bolognese sauce on the stove, and gazpacho in a state of almost-finished (need more tomatoes), and so while that all works on itself, I bring you reviews:

I knew this was coming a while back, but I'm one of Patrick at Stomping on Yeti's 25 Authors Worth Watching for 2010. There's a spotlight behind the link, and links to the rest of the list so far. It's kind of hellaciously good company, and I agree that these are people you should be reading, if you weren't already.

Here's a quick review of the Mammoth Book of Extreme Fantasy from Colin Harvey.

Also, I got into the same room as a copy of the Gardner Dozois Year's Best the other week, and have two honourable mentions. One's for "Six"; I think the other is "Parable of the Shower," but it shames me to admit that I have forgot. This was Book News Day, and so hopefully you'll understand if my head got crowded full of other stuff.


Otherwise, saw a free Metric show at Union Station last night -- eight songs total, maybe, but pretty high-energy and fun and hey, free; hung out briefly with a friend from high school tonight despite feeling icky this morning and afternoon. The weekend is pretty free and clear and I'm hoping to get some serious revising done. Life, you know. She trundles on.

I must to finish the gazpacho. Excusez-moi.
leahbobet: (bat signal)
Leah, where have you been for the last 48 hours? Well, Internet, I'm glad you asked. It's NXNE, and I have been Seeing Bands.



After Aurora's goodbye party at [livejournal.com profile] bakkaphoenix on Friday (it was her last shift, and she's worked there seven years) I headed over to Dundas Square for the free Sloan show. Sloan! The TTC was irrevocably messed up, and I missed probably half the set, but the half I did catch had songs I knew and liked in it, so I could bop around a bit and sing the set back to the band. Got...I think Believe in Me, The Other Man, Money City Maniacs, Coax Me, some other stuff I can't remember before and around those.

I'm not sure how I feel about Dundas Square as a concert venue. It's a little too distributed; it bleeds into the street, and there are still the billboards and ads and stuff getting in the way of things. I can't quite get the feel of a room there, and it's hard to get into things.

On the other hand, yesterday's proceedings?



Olympic Island is a perfect concert venue.

Okay, you do have to get across on the ferry. And the ferry was packed. And as we all know, the island is another nation unto itself, because that's the only way to explain how expensive a beer is ten minutes across the lake. But oh man, perfect day. Incredible day.

The stage setup is festival-style: a nice big grassy field you can congregate in to dance in front of the stage, as well as nice big shady trees off to the side where you can just sit between sets -- or sit through sets if you're so inclined -- and veg and chat. And since the island doesn't do regular concerts, they don't have a regular promoter, so the food available wasn't the usual Pizza Pizza and crappy beer: it was local restaurants with booths like you get at the literary festivals. Dinner was spendy, but it was also this awesome veggie burger on a real-bakery whole grain bun, with miso and fresh veggies and a cob of roasted corn. Nom. And you could see clear across to the city, and everything smelled like lake water and cut grass and sunshine, and the mood of the whole thing was just so very happy and chilled out and friendly. I looked up in the middle of the BSS set at the setting sun, and light was just spiraling through the clouds.

Did I mention it's a perfect concert venue?

I didn't get over there until about 4pm, since it was pouring earlier in the afternoon (successfully waited that out) and I took some time to get myself together to go. I ended up not actually taking the Centre Island ferry but the Ward's one -- for non-Toronto types, there are three ferry docks on the island -- and walking in, which was hot. And nice. And hot. This means I missed the Toronto Revue and Timber Timbre, which kind of sucked since I'd wanted to catch The Beauties, but eh. They're local. I can do this another time.

Lindsey and our third person (friend of hers) weren't scheduled to show up until just before the Broken Social Scene set, so I had a few hours to kill. Serendipitously, I ran into my friend Mike, who you may remember from previous concertgoing reports, and several of his friends, and ended up hanging out with them.

Danced through the Beach House set, and then sat in the shade eating dinner and chatting through the Band of Horses set (and they play a really good set, I was just hungry). And then more people showed up and Broken Social Scene, who is who we came to see, was on. So we went and elbowed into the crowd and danced some more:



That is about the only picture I got. I was busy with the music thing.

I've never seen Broken Social Scene live before, but I get the feeling it was a pretty typical set for them. They brought out all kinds of people who used to be more regularly associated with the whole project, like Leslie Feist and Emily Haines, which, okay, I admit made me squee a bit. I got about 50% of my "please play this!" list: they did Lover's Spit and Fire Eye'd Boy and Cause = Time and Almost Crimes (yaaay), but no Backyards or Her Disappearing Theme or others.

A lot of people left before the Pavement set, including a bunch of the people we were with, so a couple of us stuck it out, found a good spot, and finished it off. Pavement's funny; one of those bands I remember from around the edges of the stuff I used to listen to in high school. I recognized a lot of songs in there, but I couldn't name you a setlist for my life. Also, well, I was probably a little dehydrated and exerted out and whee! at that point anyway.

We managed to get onto the second ferry back, and I went home across the lake, under the stars with wind in my hair, feeling kind of icky with sweat and sunscreen, insanely thirsty, reeking of secondhand smoke of several varieties, legs aching so much I couldn't keep balance, and totally, absolutely, completely happy.

That is how a festival concert is supposed to be, my people.


The result of this is that I was way too tired and achy this afternoon to go see Spookey Ruben (blast), and so that is the end of the Weekend Where I Watch All The Music.

Next year, I'm going into training or something before NXNE. And I'm doing it with a plan. But either way? Squee. :)
leahbobet: (bat signal)
So! I was just here:



--and when I say this in mine own pictorial way, I mean that I was there with the entire roster of said band, including Neko Case and Dan Bejar, who don't always tour with the New Pornographers anymore. Squee!

I can't comment on the openers, since Lindsey and I skipped the first in favour of Indian food and missed the second because the 72 bus just never showed up (and then we took a cab to the show, so feh on it). The actual main set was awesome. I got pretty much my entire checklist of songs I wanted, even Challengers and Use It and Go Places and These Are the Fables and Myriad Harbor. The only things I didn't get were Falling Through Your Clothes or Adventures in Solitude, but those are pretty slow-paced ones and I didn't figure on getting them live. They played about half the new album (actually, the top half, now that I'm counting tracks), a good chunk of Twin Cinema, and some old stuff, like Execution Day and Jackie. The encore was...Challengers, then From Blown Speakers, then Testament to Youth in Verse, which the audience sang in round with the band.

They play a really, really tight live show. Especially since there are nine people on stage. It just pops and crackles, and Neko Case's voice shakes your shoes, and you can't not dance unless you have a legitimate dancing-related mobility issue or possibly suck in some fashion, in which case that is between you and your deity of choice.

I still want to be dancing. My feet ache wonderfully, and my throat hurts, because I am still the girl who sings the entire show back to the band at top voice with her head thrown back to the ceiling. I think I will dance myself to work tomorrow (hoarsely) and then back.

And this? Is just a warmup for what we're doing on Saturday.
leahbobet: (bat signal)
Back just a little while ago from seeing Owen Pallett with Lindsey who does not to my knowledge have an LJ, and who is defending her doctoral thesis tomorrow morning besides, but was kind enough to share concert tickets with me. It was at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre, which is a newish venue, I think? And a good one. Concert-hall big, and lovely acoustics/sightlines. Which was pertinent because it was also general admission and we had to score our own seats.

The opener was Snowblink, which is a band I am seriously going to like, and I can tell because:

1) They started playing and I slipped down into the mental space where there is nothing but music, washing around between my ears and under my breastbone;
2) While I was under, I solved a plotting problem with a stalled story, and it's a fix that'll work;
3) Her guitar has antlers on it. No, real ones.

They did an hour set, including a slowed-down, really pretty cover of Michael Jackson's "Human Nature." Yeah. I know. It worked. We didn't realize what song it was until the chorus, when we started giggling.

As for Owen Pallett...well. I think if you took twin violin prodigies, seperated them at birth, had one raised by scientists and the other raised on anime, console games, and high fantasy novels? You would accurately reproduce Andrew Bird and Owen Pallett (respectively). It was really, really similar to the Andrew Bird live show in the mechanics: foot pedals, laying down tracks, violin, skinny tall guy in suit, keyboards, loops and curls and structure. The thing is, Pallett feels that much more like the fantasy-genre version: his songs are much more broadly and wanderingly structured, and just the feel, the tone of them. Well, and the lyrics. He sang one which was largely about all the RPG characters he's played, if you listened close enough.

He's also not above playing little musical tricks with the audience: opening up a wall of sound or closing it with a snap, in a way that made me just laugh out loud. Or singing, for the second encore, a song that starts "Twice is enough; three times would be an insult." Yep. We are told. :)

Overall, light and bright and stringful night, and I have had a very good day. And now I really need a snack, and to at least figure out what I'm packing so I can go to Ad Astra tomorrow. Right: I'm going to be at Ad Astra this weekend. See you there if I'm seeing you.

Goodnight, O tubes. :)
Back a little over an hour ago from seeing Peter Mulvey (with Eve Goldberg opening) at a house show out in the extreme west end. It was a beautiful old house -- forced air heating vents and molded ceilings and wood, and yes, I ogle architecture so sue me -- and there was this lovely snowfall on the ground when we got there, enough that Partner in Concert Mike and I took a little stroll around the neighbourhood, just looking at the pretty houses and spending quality time with the snow.

And this was seriously one of the better small shows I've ever seen.

The audience was about 20 people large, most of whom seemed to be musicians of various sorts who had done a songwriting workshop in the afternoon and were doing a jam session after the show. Most of the people in the room knew each other, and knew the opener. This meant both that the room was really comfortable from the start and that half her songs were...her and a guitar and then the sort of half-muttered, soft harmonizing you get when people are singing along or just tossing in impromptu variations on something they know like the back of their hands. It was like sitting in the middle of a choir, kind of soothing and participatory and sweet.

Peter Mulvey did two sets and probably fifteen songs in total including an encore, and does a hell of a live show. He's personable and funny and tells stories in this doesn't-miss-a-beat way with fantastic offhand comic timing. It was a mix of songs and spoken word stuff off his new album, and the spoken word stuff was...eerily beautiful and powerful. The songs were a mix of stuff I knew (Shirt, Knuckleball Suite, Wings of the Ragman, Abilene) and things I didn't know and some fantastic covers: The Magnetic Fields' "The Book of Love" and the Jayhawks' "Bicycle" and a song from Anais Mitchell (who I really need to check out, because post-apocalyptic Depression-influenced operatic retelling of the Orpheus myth? Hello, pure twice-distilled crack for Leahs) and an incredible stripped-down bluesy one of "Everybody Knows".

And between these two sets was a casual sort of intermission with snacks and hot cider and chatting and nanaimo bars, and the whole thing was just fabulously warm and friendly and full of palpable delight.

I have two signed CDs, a warm giddy glow, and the satisfaction of not having splutteringly fangirled all over Peter Mulvey even though I really really wanted to.

Good concert, monkeys. Super good.
leahbobet: (milk?)
In 2009, cristalia resolves to...
Cut down to ten psycholinguistics a day.
Tell my family about superheroes.
Become a better cheese.
Give up b-movies.
Learn to play the existentialism.
Connect with my inner sushi.






Get your own New Year's Resolutions:


And now I am going to meet [livejournal.com profile] ksumnersmith to see Mew. And, incidentally, to connect with our inner sushi.
Just got back from the Soulsavers show -- and it was just the Soulsavers show, because [livejournal.com profile] ksumnersmith and I blew off the openers and went down the street for all-you-can-eat sushi instead. Mmm. Sushi. Sorry, opener.

Mark has blown out his voice, or is blowing it out. You can tell because he skipped whole lines in some places, moved octaves in others, and there was this five-note range where it'd just kick out, and I remember from long ago when I used to sing how that felt. He looked pained about this. Dear Mark: please do not look pained. I love you still, and perhaps a little more, because you came out and did a show for us even though you blew out your voice and could have legitimately probably cancelled and thus, I am gratified.

And even under handicap? That was a pretty damn good show. I got all three songs I really really really wanted to hear, and even got "Hit the City" and "Kingdoms of Rain", which aren't even Soulsavers songs, they're just Mark Lanegan songs (okay, they redid "Kingdoms of Rain" as a cover. But it was on his solo album first. Like years ago.) Squee was made. :D

Here, have samples:



leahbobet: (bat signal)
I am home sick today, and it's rainy, and my stomach is being dubious at me re: that holding things down business, and this internet seemingly has nothing to provide me except the ever-renewing idiocy that is slapfights.

So [livejournal.com profile] kafkonia and I are finding videos from awesome Canadian bands we liked in the mid-nineties to cheer up. You can have some too!

Here's some early Sloan. Sloan still exists, but not as good. This is a complete nerd song. It occasionally still gets radio play.



Oh look! It's the Age of Electric! If you stuck your nose into Canada in the late nineties, you know this one:




Here's a Limblifter song. Limblifter was an Age of Electric side project; I vaguely recall that at one point they had this weird web of side projects and friends in other bands and such that reminded me of QotSA. It is actually freaky, listening to this again after so many years, because now I can pick out the heavy Barenaked Ladies influence (it's the harmonies).




The Gandharvas! I admit I actually forgot about these guys myself, even though this particular song got all the radio play in the world for about three years. I'm sorry, Gandharvas. They had another really big song here which Youtube won't let me embed.




(Please hold. I can't seem to find any Rusty or Slowburn on this internet. I can find a bunch of Zuckerbaby, but I don't really hold with them. Foolish internet.

(Oh wait, found it.)

Here's Rusty. I saw them live at Mel Lastman Square in 1994 or 1995, back when they used to have free concerts on Friday nights there and they were actually good. I like "Wake Me" better, but I can't find it.




Sandbox I didn't forget about; I was a bit of a devotee, and I still have their CDs. This is not their best song. One of the times we saw them live (at Mel Lastman Square) we were informed this song is about a boy who's just got a new puppy, which makes it kinda terrible.




And we'll finish off with The Killjoys, "Today I Hate Everyone", which was what started off this particular alt-rock nostalgia spree. Because I kinda did. But I don't anymore, thanks to the healing power of the curiously strong and vibrant local music scene of my high school years.




Ladies and gents, I give you the mid-nineties Canadian alt-rock/grunge/thing scene, or at least the shreds of it that have made it onto Youtube. Like all golden things, we miss it terribly and desire all these kids to exit our lawn expeditiously.

Good evening.
(See, [livejournal.com profile] tanaise, I called it NIN|JA.)

NIN is awesome. We love our Trent with the love. It was not really a standing-up kind of set, so we mostly spent it flopped out on the grass, just letting it roll on through, except for the encore. Which was "Hurt", played as the sun was setting, with all these people's lighters out. There's one to cross off my Must Do Before Dead list.

Didn't stay for the whole of Jane's Addiction, because I am old and was seriously just crashing out. (Also, had we stayed, getting a streetcar would have been impossible. It is self-preservation to ditch before the encore when you're at the Amphitheatre.) It was recalled to me that Perry totally can't sing, but he and his man-corset had enough energy for three other bands, and he was just bopping around the stage in a way that made things fun.

And then we got to talking with these two girls on the streetcar and apparently Eagles of Death Metal are coming through in August, and that's worth doing.

Oh my god, bed now.
People!

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds are playing the Kool Haus the evening of October 1st.

It is general admission, so I did not wait for you. I have my ticket and my droolbucket for I shall not be denied.

Anyone in? :D
So! Knocked off work early to see The Gutter Twins tonight. By myself, since we have established the poor concert-going record of my friends and acquaintances!

Despite having to firmly explain to a kind of psycho young gentleman that I am not for touching, pretty good show. They played a whole bucket of songs that we don't know (since the album is brand new), and then some of their individual older stuff: Hit the City and Methamphetamine Blues particularly. I think it was really Mark's crowd: people cheered and danced more when they did his stuff. He did not say one word through the show. Just stood with one fist around his microphone stand, the other around the mic, and sang. And came on and left.

(I can't decide if this is good or bad. The last show I went to featuring a musician crush, the gentleman in question opened his mouth. And the crush went bye. I ruminated some on the nature of projection that night. So...I'm not entirely sure dude was having fun tonight, but my disgusting fangirl lust for Mark Lanegan remains perfectly intact.)

But oh. Ohhh. They did this:



That alone was worth the price of admission. Oh my.

*fans*

*swoons*

*projects*


And now I am eating lemon meringue pie for dinner. Because I'm a grownup and there's no one here to stop me.

Mwa. Haha. Ha.

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