All of this was but a prelude to the Spits. I knew nothing about them, but the show was free and the rock and roll fashion show at CHAC did a very un-rock and roll thing by ending before 9. Rather than hang around for the DJ aftermath, Samantha and I left for the anniversary spectacle. So, back to the finale. During the set-up time, the Spits and their roadies appeared to be fairly ordinary. However, when the band actually took the stage they were dressed in cheap medieval costume robes and fake beards (the exception was the keyboard player, who was shirtless and wore a monster mask) [flickr].
It seems that a band with this sort of stage presence also comes with devoted fans. They showed their affection by throwing water bottles and firecrackers at the band while forming a pogo-ing most area close to the stage. Technically, I suppose that the band is good at what they do -- playing subtle variations on one punk song ("this song is about the future. this next song is about the future"), but after a couple examples and way too much second-hand pyrotechnic smoke I was ready to call it a night and get home to Ebert & Roeper.
Much earlier in the day, when the weather was still ridiculously nice, I went swimming and tried to sit outside in the sun for a little bit on the deck behind the pool. But it was way too strange to sustain for more than a few minutes. Still, probably good practice for next weekend in the nonstop sun.
1. not to be confused with wizard rock [#], which is superior in all ways.
2. celebrated with a candled pastry.