Out of Cape Cod Tonight
I’m not one for blog posts telling you what I did all weekend. I think it’s poor form to use the blog for “dear diary’s” sake. We’ll leave that to the folks who twitter, or tweet, or twoop, or whatever it is you call the outward spewage of life’s insignificant minutiae.
I totally saw Vampire Weekend this weekend. And, omg, they totally rocked. You weren’t there. I was.
(Forgive me father, for I hath livejournaled.)
I like VW so much because they are musicians first. The lyrics touch on the quirky side, but they wear sensible clothes, play instruments well, and have that subtle intellectual bent I so deeply treasure. “All your diction dripping with disdain.” You don’t get alliteration like that from the Billboard Top 40.
We spent Saturday before the concert walking around NYC. Each time I’m in NYC I am reminded of how hard the city tries to be chic. We almost bought some American Apparel shirts, lest we disturb the regional Terroir. Nowhere was it more prominent than the streets of SOHO. There, the twenty-somethings wage deep internal struggle: how can we all be thick-rim-glasses-pseudo-intellectuals but still maintain our notable sense of individualism? Maybe they are just so serious because tickets to the VW concert sold out.