Monday, November 06, 2006
Suggested (head) Wardrobe for Karen O.
Lead by the same hand that lead me straight to the front row of my first and only Good Charlotte show---which, coincidentally enough, was the first and only show I actually spent leaning on the warm hood of my roommate’s car while surrounded by mothers and hardback copies of the Davinci Code in the venue’s parking lot --I was hesitant when dragged to some Yay-yeah or Yeah-Yeah, or whatever-their-stupid-name-was show.
A show I had only agreed to attend because admission was free with the flash of a student ID and drinks were cheap as long as your hand was stamped, which was the case for my roommate and I, her eyes quickly popping at the sight of a stumbling girl in a Spandex mini-dress and ripped mismatched stockings.
“That’s Karen O,” she told me, as the object of our attention chugged a can of Paps Blue Ribbon, “she’s the lead singer of the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.” I took a swig of my New Castle and shrugged with disinterest, the same reaction I had when my Yeah-Yeah virginity was deflowered a week earlier through the squealing ear-rape of “Date with the Night” during an MTV promotional commercial.
I really didn't get them, especially looking at Karen O. and her overtly silly ensemble, all style no substance I thought.
Then the show started, the music prefaced by a poster boy for indie threads who yelled "Karen, I want to have your baby!" through the anticipated silence.
Standard show lights, green and purple beams, licked the stage as guitarist Nick Zinner strummed out some prelude chords and Karen O.’s naturally sweet Asian-girl voice snarled. Their sound was definitely original; simplistic, hard, and unpredictable, embodying the soul of the NYC music scene. While I listened to their songs images of leather pants, thrift shops, drunken fist fights, dirty hole-in-the-wall bars with graffiti embellished bathrooms, Call Kate for a good time, and kids making out in the gutter roundhouse-kicked their way into my brain. Their sound, experimental screeching rock with a twist of yearning love, shook me and the rest of the audience, our bodies moving, mouths yelling, fist flying symbolizing a desire for more. And more. And more.
After an effective show that everyone in the audience clearly felt, highlighted by Karen’s disgraceful yet punk-rockish jumping-Stevie-Nicks-inspired-twirls, somersaults, and plenty of microphone deep-throating, I absolutely loved them as a live band.
But after purchasing their first album Fever to Tell and MTV’s burn-out of “Maps” I felt the band’s strengths lied in live performance.
Still I bought their sophomore album, Show Your Bones and after a few listens I decided the album was boring.
Refusing to let their efforts fade, I gave the album a couple more spins, allowing the music to slowly creep up on me as I caught myself constantly replaying “Cheated Hearts” and “The Sweets”.
I recently saw them in Orlando at the Hard Rock Live on October 13th, a much larger venue then my alma mater’s dinky student union club. Of course they kicked ass, the quality of their live performance equal to the polished sound of their recorded album, but alas, I had sort of a hard time seeing everything. I was behind a group of tall boys and the fact that I’m legally blind didn’t help the situation. Karen O., from what I could see, was wearing a typically insane outfit, but I didn’t get a good look at her head-gear, which my boyfriend described to me as looking like this:
Being that I lack any kind of artistic talent or three-dimensional drawing skills, let me explain. It’s supposed to be a skintight cap, kind of like a swimming cap, but shiny green, and then there were two ruffles coming down both sides of the cap. Then there were helmet straps, which all matched her body suit and cape. Yes cape.
The description amused me so much it inspired me to come up with my own proposals for future Karen O. head gear.
Such as:
A leopard print fez
A yamika (or what I like to call the Jewish-bald spot concealer) turned around and placed on the front of the face rather than behind the head.
A shrunken turquoise sombero
A baby’s puppy-dog skully
A sunflower-inspired Kentucky Derby hat
A show I had only agreed to attend because admission was free with the flash of a student ID and drinks were cheap as long as your hand was stamped, which was the case for my roommate and I, her eyes quickly popping at the sight of a stumbling girl in a Spandex mini-dress and ripped mismatched stockings.
“That’s Karen O,” she told me, as the object of our attention chugged a can of Paps Blue Ribbon, “she’s the lead singer of the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.” I took a swig of my New Castle and shrugged with disinterest, the same reaction I had when my Yeah-Yeah virginity was deflowered a week earlier through the squealing ear-rape of “Date with the Night” during an MTV promotional commercial.
I really didn't get them, especially looking at Karen O. and her overtly silly ensemble, all style no substance I thought.
Then the show started, the music prefaced by a poster boy for indie threads who yelled "Karen, I want to have your baby!" through the anticipated silence.
Standard show lights, green and purple beams, licked the stage as guitarist Nick Zinner strummed out some prelude chords and Karen O.’s naturally sweet Asian-girl voice snarled. Their sound was definitely original; simplistic, hard, and unpredictable, embodying the soul of the NYC music scene. While I listened to their songs images of leather pants, thrift shops, drunken fist fights, dirty hole-in-the-wall bars with graffiti embellished bathrooms, Call Kate for a good time, and kids making out in the gutter roundhouse-kicked their way into my brain. Their sound, experimental screeching rock with a twist of yearning love, shook me and the rest of the audience, our bodies moving, mouths yelling, fist flying symbolizing a desire for more. And more. And more.
After an effective show that everyone in the audience clearly felt, highlighted by Karen’s disgraceful yet punk-rockish jumping-Stevie-Nicks-inspired-twirls, somersaults, and plenty of microphone deep-throating, I absolutely loved them as a live band.
But after purchasing their first album Fever to Tell and MTV’s burn-out of “Maps” I felt the band’s strengths lied in live performance.
Still I bought their sophomore album, Show Your Bones and after a few listens I decided the album was boring.
Refusing to let their efforts fade, I gave the album a couple more spins, allowing the music to slowly creep up on me as I caught myself constantly replaying “Cheated Hearts” and “The Sweets”.
I recently saw them in Orlando at the Hard Rock Live on October 13th, a much larger venue then my alma mater’s dinky student union club. Of course they kicked ass, the quality of their live performance equal to the polished sound of their recorded album, but alas, I had sort of a hard time seeing everything. I was behind a group of tall boys and the fact that I’m legally blind didn’t help the situation. Karen O., from what I could see, was wearing a typically insane outfit, but I didn’t get a good look at her head-gear, which my boyfriend described to me as looking like this:
Being that I lack any kind of artistic talent or three-dimensional drawing skills, let me explain. It’s supposed to be a skintight cap, kind of like a swimming cap, but shiny green, and then there were two ruffles coming down both sides of the cap. Then there were helmet straps, which all matched her body suit and cape. Yes cape.
The description amused me so much it inspired me to come up with my own proposals for future Karen O. head gear.
Such as:
A leopard print fez
A yamika (or what I like to call the Jewish-bald spot concealer) turned around and placed on the front of the face rather than behind the head.
A shrunken turquoise sombero
A baby’s puppy-dog skully
A sunflower-inspired Kentucky Derby hat
// posted by Whoreese @ 12:50 PM 
Comments:
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I KNEW you would say something about that....okay, for clarification, JAMIE PUNTUMKHUL dragged me to Good Charlotte, SARAH HARRINGTON dragged me to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Sarah has exquisite taste in music. Happy, Sarah?
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