Too Old to Rock

Singer/songwriter/composer/general lunatic Mike Patton is in town tonight, touring with his most recent project Peeping Tom. A few years ago I would have bought tickets as soon as I heard about it, and at 4:55 pm I'd probably already be at the venue, or at least at a bar down the street. But not this time. Since early college, I've seen Patton in every incarnation that came through the DC/Baltimore area: Faith No More (3 times), Mr. Bungle (once), Fantomas (twice), and Tomahawk (once). But not this time.

It's not so much anything against Peeping Tom. I mean it is probably the Patton project I've been least enthused with, but I think it's more to do with the idea of a rock club. Standing around, trying not to get bowled over by some guy three times my size insisting on moshing right next to me. Slipping in puddles of cheap beer. Maybe I'm just getting too old for it all.

So instead Miss L and I are going to the Creative Alliance at the Patterson tonight, to take in part of their silent sounds series. They're playing The Adventures of Prince Achmed, one of if not the first feature-length animated film ever created. Baltimore band Yeveto will be providing the musical soundtrack by playing some of the tracks from their newest album, Stars and Atoms. If you don't know Yeveto, they're kind of Baltmore's answer to God Speed You Black Emperor, blending elements of jazz, folk and eastern music into some pretty unique indie-rock instrumentals. Check out their website for samples of what I mean.

The whole thing just appeals to me more. Getting to sit down and watch a film while a talented band adds their music to the experience. All the best parts are there, with none of the bad. Plus I get to support local musicians.

But as I drove up to Baltimore from Va. this afternoon, my Ipod decided to taunt me. It went through not one, not two, but six different tracks all related to Patton. The first one was cute, the second odd, and then it was just bizarre. It was almost 40 minutes straight of nothing but Patton. It was almost like Patton himself tried to send me a little message through my Ipod, to give me a last chance to get my ass in gear and rock. I feel a little bad about missing the show, but not that bad. Sorry, Mike.

Excelsior.