Archive for April, 2011

Here’s a story, a celebrity story:

I was walking around the neighborhood in Boston near Fenway and The House of Blues—the venue where Gogol Bordello would be playing on Saturday night. Walking and talking with Hubby. Discussing what Gogol Bordello is like and who a typical fan might be, when I said “There’s one [a fan] right now.” I looked about halfway up in front of me only enough to see a man in a pair of tannish pants with tattered rags affixed at about knee-level. And Hubby said, “No, he’s in the band” at which point I realized we were passing Eugene Hutz himself. I looked right into his eyes and then glanced at his mouth, which held his characteristic gold fillings.

He passed us. No words or smiles were exchanged. I didn’t even say hello. I am usually a friendly person, so what the heck? Here is a man who ignites crowds and women’s loins alike and I was dumbstruck. I turned around and said to Hubby “It’s him, it’s Eugene.” And I kept just staring at his back. Why didn’t I say hello? Why didn’t I say anything? Too dang polite and white, am I.

Now witness what I missed saying hello to:

This video is from 2007; there are many on youtube of more recent vintage. It’s not my favorite song, but I opted for it because it exemplifies what Gogol Bordello is all about. You get a sense of the fans, of the way the internationally-assembled band members share the stage, of their unique sound, and you get a really good look at Hutz in all his red, tight-panted glory. The pants change from show to show, but they are always falling dangerously low by the end as far as I can tell. On Saturday, he was wearing bright red boxers with CCCP emblazoned at the top. Of course, these underoos matched the accordion player’s red-star Communist cap perfectly. The more Hutz sang, danced, played guitar, and generally jumped around energizing the crowd, the lower the pants got.

The concert was a great surprise to me as I’m not too familiar with Gogol Bordello’s music. Fun, positive, hot and sexy, old and young, sober, drunk, and stoned; not too loud, but loud enough, and of course, totally danceable, which the whole crowd understood. They’ve got a strong and loyal fan base and are more well-known internationally perhaps than in the US.

There is more that could be said about the band and their music, but it’s already out there for you to discover. I can write about the clothes, the sweatiness, and the heat, but trying to write about the finer points of a this band’s music is really beyond my abilities.

Just know that if any of you need a gypsy groupie buddy to follow Gogol Bordello around on their European tour, I’m interested. I can leave as soon as I pack my kids’ lunchboxes and get home from the carpool. Call me!

Read Full Post »

Heavy snowflakes are falling. The snow is wet and won’t last, thick and icy under our feet. It is so beautiful outside.

I rather like the studio version of this because Garfunkel’s voice and Simon’s guitar are crystal-clear. But I hate youtube videos of studio recordings. I do love the pink shirts. I love a man in a pink shirt, possibly even a Republican man in a pink shirt. I just love pink, period. Remember my pink milk glass vase? Like that.

The rhythm of the snowfall and this song are one. It could be blossoms falling or dappled light hitting the ground. It is good to find these things.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts