This weekend, I "went" to the Siren Fest in Coney Island. By "went" I mean, my girl, Miles, his girl and I all sat and drank beer in the sun while Ant got all uppity and ran around in the heat to actually "watch" the music...it was his first time there, bless his lil' heart.
As we sat and let the sun and beer drain our spirits away, some pretty great bands played. Parts and Labor was the only band I really "watched", and they were fun. It was more fun to make fun and call them "Parts and GAYbor" to piss off Ant, but that backfired when they ended up being awesome.
After that, it didn't take long for the Coronas and the oppressive 99 degree heat to drain me into a useless state that would be better suited for a lawnchair in a nursing home. Every time I go to Siren its like that. Its hot as fuck, too crowded, the sound is "eh", and I drink a little too much to stay frosty. Why then, do I go? Hell if I know...
I tried to see Islands, but I could only stand getting bumped into by sweaty assholes in day-glo urban outfitters sunglasses for so long, so I got the hell out of there.
Anyway, I did get a little footage of Broken Social Scene as I wandered to get more beer, before passing out peacefully on my girlfriend's foot on the beach.
Not sure what the song is...
Sunday though was much more successful. McCarren Park Pool on a Sunday was like a waterballoon to the face during Siren Fest. It was fucking refreshing, not very crowded, plenty of places to chill, and they had a slip and slide, which I threw my skinny ass down about 9 times.
The music...
Team Robespierre. Hella fun to watch.
Fuck Buttons. I could listen to this shit if my hair was on fire.
Liars - Clear Island
Liars - The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack
Liars - Plaster Casts of Everything
So, in closing. A disorienting Saturday, and an ideal Sunday. And a slip and slide.
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