I skipped into my apartment tonight after attending the Ben Lee concert at the El Rey in Los Angeles. I proudly showed Loren the photograph you see here, to which he muttered, "Who's that?" Which pretty much killed the moment. But like I care—notice how Ben's arm is draped casually over my shoulder, a part of my body that I am seriously considering never washing ever again.
I suppose I can understand the "Who's that?" reaction, which I'm sure is mumbled by many of this blog's readers whenever I continue to write obsessively about musicians I love. The reason I promote these artists so much is because I hope that I can convert perhaps one L.A.-based reader so that I would have someone, anyone, to go to these concerts with. That way, they too could experience terrific musicians such as Ben Lee, who refuses to give in to the encore tradition by just turning his back to the audience at the end of his set and then turning around again to do his encore; who is simultaneously wry and sincere (how does he do that?!) when he sings "What Would Jay-Z Do?"; who has a wardrobe I envy; and who can work the crowd into a call-and-response frenzy by repeatedly shouting "motherfucking snakes on a motherfucking plane." And if I found someone to go with me to these things, I wouldn't have to plant myself on the dance floor and never move for fear of losing my spot. You could be my marker.
Sure, half the concerts I go to, I am accompanied by an equally fanatical friend—but that means I still need a chaperon 50% of the time. Who else is going to ensure that I don't make a complete idiot of myself during the post-show meet-and-greet?
For the two people out there who know "who's that?" (I'm guessing at the very least Amy and Geoff in Boston), feel my excitement. Isn't that nice?
And now, a fan-made YouTube video to warm the stubborn cockles of your heart: