Hipsters vs The OC

12 October 2005 | 0

Death Cab for Cutie rocks my panties off. Well, not quite, but they definitely know how to rock. I just got home from First Ave. and, man, were they good. Ben is my new personal hero: the man can play fricken every instrument on the stage. They played a nice long set, mixed up the rocking songs and the quiet songs, had me both bobbing my head and in tears, and, all in all, left me feeling good coming out of the show. The crowd was interesting… there was the shy girl who obviously came by herself and is obviously in love with Ben, dressed in all black, with a black backpack and black hoodie and gigantic black boots. She was probably a cutter and used to write bad poetry. Then, there was the overly-confident, baseball hat-wearing, polo shirt a bit too tight (to show off his massive pecs), California transplant wannabe jock with his blonder-than-blonde, booze bottle in one hand, glittery top a bit too tight (to show off her massive boobs), Fox-watching, California transplant wannabe girlfriend (who he’s probably cheated on at least once). Then, there were all those other guys who are probably in their own emo bands, who aren’t quite so pretty, and had their heart broken and stepped on by the one girl they gave their soul too. They all sung along pretending they were up on stage. And then there were all the other girls who wore scarves (even though it was a zillion degrees in there), and long skirts, and strange fuzzy sweaters, and clung to their other girl friends so as to avoid having to talk to the emo-boys. All those girls want to take Ben in and love him and cherish him, but you know that they probably are _exactly the same type of girl_ who broke Ben’s heart in the first place.

Oh, yeah, Ben is the lead singer of DCFC, if you didn’t gather that already. And, obviously, I’m making broad generalizations and buying into unfounded stereotypes. And, just so you know, I was in the emo-boy crowd (except I don’t have a band, which significantly decreases my chances at rockstardom).

Maybe one day I’ll teach myself how to play the guitar or something and then I can write songs and make the kids sing along. God knows I’ve got the material for at least an album’s worth of emo lyrics.

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