There were families in Canada that were prosecuted ... - Memewar

Two Cheap Blazers
and No Band to Interview!:
Backpacking After You Say Party! We Say Die!
By Elliott Lummin
London – May 23, 2006
When I thought of going to see You Say Party! We Say Die! (YSP!) in
London, I pictured very bored British patrons, numbering maybe six
or seven, tiredly sipping beer at the back of the bar while Carmen and
I belted lyrics back at the band on stage. Nothing going on here. Just
some Canadian band and some degenerates that seem to know them.
Instead, it’s an hour before the show and we find ourselves in a “queue”
outside Madame JoJo’s (historical brothel turned punk club) in Soho.
“Wow. Uh. Who’re you here to see?” I ask the girl ahead of us.
“YSP!” The answer is quick, as if it were Grade 1 arithmetic. “They’re
headlining.”
“You’re not serious. You actually know them?”
“Oh ya. They’re a Canadian band that’s been getting some good play
on the radio lately.”
I give a bewildered look to Carmen. No fucking way. Suddenly, the
interview we have scheduled with them in Dublin is no longer on the
same level. It’s not fledgling magazine meets Canadian band struggling
to make it in Europe. They’re already a success.
These feelings of inadequacy are not put to rest once we’re in the
2
club. We make it in time to catch the last opening act and oddly enough
the voice, the lyrics, and the Indie pinup girl vocalist are all familiar.
More than familiar. A taste of home.
“Holy shit. Is that Metric?”
“Oh my god. Metric is opening for YSP! – that’s so backwards.”
Energy levels go from 0 to 100 at this realization and I sing along
with the girl I’ve dreamed of saving from post-punk depression, “Dead
disco, dead funk, dead rock’n’roll!” Then I look around. The Brits are
having none of it. Evidently, music appreciation involves only listening
here. No physical response.
I believe it for a time; the Brits are just uptight. But, my theory is
dashed when YSP! takes the stage.
“What the hell? They’re actually moving now.”
“Maybe the beer is kicking in?” Carmen suggests.
Although tired from exerting ourselves to Metric, we rise. We can
actually dance more comfortably now that the Brits have deemed it
socially acceptable. I sigh, now having to fight for a spot by the stage.