Date: July 2003(?)
Author: Jamie Moshin
Headline: Tegan & Sara - Aladdin Theater
Generally, I do most of my thinking for the day during my morning shower. If a deep thought, funny one-liner, or insight into what I should be doing with my life doesn't occur during those first eight steamy minutes of my day, it ain't never gonna happen.
Similarly, all the deep thoughts that came to me the evening of the Tegan and Sara show at the Aladdin happened while I was sitting outside waiting to get in.
Maybe it's because approximately twenty seconds and thirty feet into the walk from my house to the Aladdin (cardio, baby!) I slipped and fell ass-deep in a mud puddle, completely caking my carefully selected wardrobe with gummy, leafy detritus. My body might have been fooled by this sudden, shocking deluge of "water" into thinking that it was shower time, causing my brain to give me a few minutes of genius activity.
First thought - a new game: at a concert by purported lesbians, and thus attended almost exclusively by lesbians, try to spot all the Sleater-Kinney t-shirts before your companion. Bonus points awarded for piercings and short hair.
Second thought - why is it, exactly, that homosexual performers attract a crowd that is largely homosexual? Their music isn't any different substantively from anyone else's…it seems somehow sad to me that people become fans of certain performers because of what and who they are, not because of what they play. It seems like the antithesis of being a consumer of art. Personally, I don't listen to artists because they share similar characteristics to yours truly…I am not of a fan of Kenny G despite his religious beliefs, or of Ricky Martin's because of his good looks… It's not like Melissa Etheridge is belting out "Come to my same-sex window, it's a legitimate personal choice (or genetic non-choice)," KD Lang is crooning "Constant craving has always been (for penisless beings)," Toshi Reagon is singing "My Big Homosexual Love," or Tegan and Sara are harmonizing to "Don't think I'll confess, why would I confess that I like women." There's my grandstanding for the day…image is nothing, obey your ear.
Third thought - Do homosexuals of the opposite sex always seem more attractive because they're forbidden fruit? Or do I generally just think with my wonder beast?
Fourth thought - Tegan should change the spelling of her name to Teggun. Then her name would be "nugget" backwards. Brilliant.
And my eight minutes of genius are up.
Well, on to the concert.
The opener, Jets Overhead, featured the worst drum fills since Ringo Starr. Other than that, I don't have anything really negative to say. I was actually fairly impressed. This band, hailing from Canada (Winnipeg, I believe, but this might just be a Winnipeg Jets thing) features excellent vocals - sometimes including four-part harmony. Their set was like a mini-opera, with nary a break in the music to be seen. Once they smooth out some bumps, they will definitely be a band to keep an eye on. Oh yeah - I can think of one other negative thing - the main background vocalist might just be the most disinterested performer I have ever seen. I haven't seen someone so bored with her own performance since this one chick in an Amsterdam sex show ( I was just there for the articles).
After the Jets, it was time for Tegan and Sara. (Be thankful…I almost made a super lame Jets/Sharks West Side Story joke, but managed to persuade myself not to).
After just a couple minutes of the set, I was already feeling somewhat disappointed. First, my lust for Tegan did not burn quite as brightly as I recalled, and second, on the first song she sounded exactly like Cyndi Lauper singing "True Colors" (no…that is NOT a compliment). Sara sounded quite nice on background vocals, however.
In the first dramatic turn of events of the set, the Jets Overhead blasé background beauty has met her match in the bored bassist. This man looks exactly like he had been stunned after a vicious whack to the forehead by a hammer. He's coming up fast on the outside, and it looks like he might win the lobotomized crown. Yep. It's his. He is officially the.dullest.person.of.all.time.
In the second shocker, I think Sara might be winning the twin throne. The first time I saw T&S, I fell in love with Tegan. This time…hm. Sarah's just doing it for me. You can call me fickle. But you probably shouldn't.
Oh! This just in! The bass player's name is Chris Thompson.
Chris Thompson is the dullest man alive.
Ok, this is pretty much what the concert boils down to: It was not their best live performance. I've seen them better. They talked a lot, and the vast majority of what they talked about was inane, including, but not limited to, conversations about Tegan's obsessive-compulsive behavior, Sara's obsession with having a good nickname, Tegan's lack of recent heartbreak, and Sara's opinion that she had food poisoning, although she did not "have to poo." And, really, I'm thinking that Tegan and Sara are merely mediocre. They have some talent, they're only 22 for the love of God, but…eh. They're not that great. Their style is best described as "loud, almost in-tune duets." And even the "fans" who were there for the "music" stood…but did not dance. Indicative, no?
So, there you have it…mediocre music, cute lesbians, the victory of image over music, and the dullest man alive. Kinda makes me wish I'd stayed in the shower.