I leave the country for 3 weeks and, as soon as I return, I find out that M.I.A. is retiring from touring?
The best concert I’ve been to in 2008 was the M.I.A. show I saw with Diana LAST SUMMER. No show I’ve seen since has matched the energy or fun. That night, we guzzled cheap, gigantic beers, danced a little with our purses, got jostled by frat boys in sweat-soaked button-downs, giggled at all the saucer-eyed people tripping around us and throwing rave hands, envied the wasp-waists of the just-out gay boys who were wearing sunglasses-at-night and Mardi Gras beads as necklaces, felt fat, realized that American Apparel isn’t ugly if you’re 19 and a waif and believe that leggings are the second-coming of pants, felt old, danced some more with our plastic cups, guzzled another round of cheap, gigantic beers, forgot to be awkward, bought some yellow M.I.A. flip-flops that looked like a bunch of ripe bananas, and were approached in the parking lot afterwards to have our picture taken for some recently-launched fashion blog, which made us feel for one brief, damp, summer second like we could still hang with the cool kids.
Hear that, M.I.A.? My only point is, We need you, Girl. Without you, who else will get uptight indie snobs to shake it on the dance floor? Who will bring frat boys in broadcloth and gay boys in beads together in one room? Who, if not you, is going to make us feel young, free, and delusional enough to wear neon?
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.