He Was High on Life

Quite suddenly, I am feeling a lot more like my old self.

I hadn't been to any shows yet in Portland, and I'm not sure quite how that happened. I'm intrinsically unwilling to go to movies alone—this is one among several factors contributing to my cinematic illiteracy—but I actually quite enjoy going to concerts, regardless of whether or not I’ve got a posse together. Used to go to hella shows in Minneapolis, but like I said, I’ve been kind of a musical homebody here in Portland.

Well, tonight's Rasputina concert was as worthy a kickoff as any.

I’d never seen them live, but I’ve heard A Radical Recital, and Melora has definitely kept up her penchant for declaiming some elliptical and offputting comment and driving straight into the next song. The music was wonderful. The band at the moment consists of her, Daniel DeJesus (a really good-looking black guy who looks a bit younger than me; cello), and Catie D’amica (a moderately cute gal of indeterminate age and a very Portlandish fashion sense; somewhat surreal drum kit); her comment after their introductions was, “I like to take kids off of the street and teach them a skill. Sometimes I legally adopt them, and then they do MORE work for me!” The crowd was weird as hell but quite relaxed.

All told, good times.