Wednesday, 22 May 2013

The K-Tizzle Sizzle - Greatest Disappointments, Vol. I

Greatest Disappointments, Vol. I
Because sometimes things suck...
by Katie Langley

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to a breakfast where Sir Richard Branson was speaking. Maybe I let the hype get to me? Maybe I built it up too much in my mind? Maybe Dick was hung-over? All I know with certainty is that the event could be summed up in one word – disappointing. Richard was not the confident, charismatic man that I had heard about but rather nervous and bumbling. T, t, t, today junior!

Katie's disappointment was thiiiiis big.

Later that day I saw Example play at The Tivoli. Maybe I let the hype get to me? Maybe I built it up too much in my mind? Maybe I was jaded from the Dick experience? Yes, it was a disappointment. I was expecting more of a drum’n’bass feel, or at the very least being able to hear these instruments given the impressive nature of the drum kit. But all I heard was tsss tsss tsss. The synth was turned up so high that my ears ached the entire next day.

Earlier in the year Mindless Self Indulgence played at the Soundwave Festival. I’ve been a fan of their music for a couple of years now. It’s quirky and cheeky. They were scheduled to play early in the day so I bathed in sunscreen and kitted up first thing. Vocalist Jimmy Urine spoke to the crowd and I knew then that things were going to go from bad to worse. I’ll admit there’s a certain arrogance to Jimmy that’s part of their style, but he came across as a bitter, self-involved arsehole.

My love of cheesy rap and r’n’b took me to The Arena a couple of years ago to see Chingy. Yes, you read that correctly. My critical error was agreeing to be the designated driver. At 1am squeezed in between gangsta wannabes with no Chingy in sight I began to regret my decision. When he did finally grace us with his presence I was too tired and annoyed to really care.

That right thurr is disappointing.

In the pop punk glory days I tried to ride the Blink 182 wave. In the lead up to the 2000 Big Day Out I bought their CD’s and learned all the words. I bought converse shoes and put in my own checked shoelaces. Turns out my money would’ve been better spent on, I don’t know, anything else… An extra dagwood dog? Driving lessons? The amount of fart jokes told was out of control. I’m all for crowd interaction, but there’s a point at which one must shut up and just play.

There’s nothing worse than a disappointing live music experience. Well, there is, but you don’t want to hear about the time I fell arse over tit at work losing my shoes, papers and dignity. Or do you?

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