November 5th, 2009
Dammit.
Now that our hopes and dreams have been dashed, we can just settle in and enjoy, oh I dunno, the ongoing SEPTA strike, the imminent cold and shitty weather, the swine flu pandemic, and tonight’s Train/Uncle Kracker show at the TLA:
Train
9pm, $37-40. TLA.
As the artist Larry Poons recently put it, “We live in an age of music for people who don’t like music.” Perhaps you’ve encountered some of these people—the ones who fork over good money for the blandest music available because they’re supposed to like something. Inevitably, such people latch onto Train. The metaphorically (OK, possibly literally) lobotomized San Francisco band has managed to make a killing by removing all that is soulful, interesting, clever or engaging about music, offering generic “modern-rock” melodies and lyrics like, “I’ll open up and be your parachute/ And I’ll never let you down” that ultimately require zero emotional investment. Tonight, the room will be filled with people who don’t really like music listening to a band that doesn’t really like music, either. What a sad, weird place to be. (Michael Alan Goldberg)
Run me over now.
