I'm With The Band (Unless They're Beardy)
Things were a little slow at work today, so I made a mostly chronological list of all of the bands/musicians that I've ever interviewed. They are:
The Flashing Lights
The Meligrove Band
The Orange Alabaster Mushroom
By Divine Right
The Tijuana Bibles
Cuff The Duke
And The Bicycles next week.
There have been more, but that's most of the better-known ones. Some of them I've interviewed several times, which is probably why I feel like such a grizzled veteran.
Inititally, I forgot about interviewing the Constantines. That's probably because I was impressively drunk that particular night. We are talking about epic drinking here. The interview happened in Kingston when I was maybe 20, about a year before they exploded. I remember very little about the interview itself (although I must have it on tape somewhere). What I do remember is making sex eyes at Bry while Dallas made sex eyes at me. Afterwards, Dallas followed me around the EngSoc lounge like a puppy. While flattered (and, to re-iterate, fantastically drunk), I dodged his advances.
WHY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH DID YOU DO THAT, you ask?
Dallas had a beard (the facial hair kind. Not the Katie Holmes kind.)
Anyone who knows me knows that I generally find beards repulsive. His face was furry and his lips looked hot dog pink and I was just not attracted. At all.
Some time later, I saw Joel McConvey interviewing the Cons on Studio Q. And guess who was clean shaven? Right. And guess who was shockingly beautiful under his beard (not to mention chin-dimpled)? Riiiiiight.
This photo doesn't really do him justice, but mark my words: Dallas is the pretty. And his name is DALLAS, for crying out loud! We could have named our children Houston and...I don't know...Tucson or something.
Woe is me!
It's probably for the best that nothing happened, since I started vomiting maybe 30 seconds after I got home that night...and didn't stop for hours.
Similarly, a Constantine who will remain nameless (not Dallas) totally threw up all over Matt's bathroom that very same night, but you'll have to get that story from him.
Years later, whenever I see the Constantines play live, I throw aggressive fuck-me eyes at Dallas in the hopes that he'll recognize me as the one that got away.
Alas, that ship has sailed.
So ends storytime with Aunty Sofi. Night night.
(Now playing: "Sloop John B", The Beach Boys)