I have a twin. He is my Wonder Twin. Really. Okay, fine, we aren't twins, or even related for that matter, but can get away with telling people we're related. And we're both kinda weird. He's more weird. Anyway, he is the Zal to my Jayna. We don't have stupid purple outfits, nor a pet monkey (we should totally get a pet monkey), and we aren't actually as lame as the characters are. Although, we do use the catch phrase and choose completely unreasonable forms.
Zal has a band. He plays the bass. I have been a consistently bad friend and not gone to any of his shows, until this last one. THE last one. One of the guys is moving to pursue his career, which is totally stupid and self indulgent of him, but whatever. (I do not really harbor any dislike for this move, it's smart and the kid's got talent, but for purposes of this post, and my not being able to see another show, I'm going to blame him, despite the fact that really it's my own fault for not seeing them more.) I can only hope that when he comes to visit he will be kidnapped by former band mates, locked in a basement, and forced to play drums till he cries. I will also accept him being made to play a reunion show so I can see them again.
The show was at I don't know where in Long Island City in a gallery. There was a showing of various artists. I looked around, liked what I saw, but didn't take photos. Sorry. Copyright infringement and all that.
The band was...well...awesome. Keyboards, bass, singing, and two drummers. Fucking. Awesome. It's all I can say. I can't describe their music, but just that it is the type that makes you want to do something. Go for a run. Dance around. Steal a car and drive fast. Have a sword fight. Become a vigilante. Fight a group of sixty Kindergarteners. Something. I settled for bouncing around, while another friend was running around like an eight year old on speed. Sometimes you gotta do, you know?