Wherein A Mexican Blows Out His Left Eardrum

So I know I was supposed to have the second part of my Avenue Q review up, but I got slightly more than sidetracked. Delivering pizza is, much to my chagrin, something of a time-consuming job, and I've been making more of an attempt to introduce order into the seething chaos that is my life. Part of this involves going out more to eliminate whatever cabin fever I may contract. And I do come down with the sickness at times, to the point where I feel like I have to pull out my teeth if I'm positioned in front of the computer at any given time during the time I come down with these maladies.

I'd prefer not to though. I happen to like my teeth. So where am I going with this you might ask? Well, some time ago, about 8 months or so, I went to go see chiptune supergroup Anamanaguchi. I still can't figure out if their name means anything, but the way I see it, it's not really worth fretting over. They make some great music, that's really all that matters to me in my book. I don't really want to do another review of their music because A) Extolling their amazingness again would simply cheapen the result, and B) I don't like repeating myself. So I'll simply fill this space with the effect their music has on people.

Anamanaguchi is comprised of 4 members: lead songwriter Peter Berkman, bassist James DeVito, guitarist Ary Warnaar and drummer Luke Silas, each of them making one part of a wonderful whole. That's really not the full story on them obviously, but really there's nothing I can't say about them factwise that Wikipedia can't say a whole buttload more informatively. What I'm driving at is the fact that they can actually command the attention, respect, and above all admiration of a stuffy room full of nerds and geeks that could probably have stayed home with a bag of chips and some salsa, sat back and played Dead Space 2 or something for the night.

Okay, to that was me. In any case, I have to tell you, it really is a sight. Imagine if you will, four young men, crowded into the corner of a stuffy basement, with close to a hundred or so bodies peering at them from the shadows. The music starts, true to their style, fast and furious, and all apprehension just melts away like butter in a skillet, engrossing the listener, tickling their eardrums and hotwiring their brains with a jolt of pure spirit and vitality in the form of song. And this is just as an 8-bit tribute!

It's interesting to go to a small private show like this, and I mean this in all sincerity. As much as you want to watch the performers, watch the audience for a few minutes during the set. See hoe many people are looking around and swaying (even if it's badly in time) to the music, invoking unspoken rituals of oath, swearing a kind of fealty to the band. It's all true, and I don't use it as a negative example, far from it. The mob dances and sways to the beat, doled out by the band in generous lumps, never allowing their subjects to go hungry for the music. This is important, because in my eyes and my friend who I'd shanghai'd into accompanying me to the show tonight, this is what marks a band as a band, and not simply an entity of misfortune and musical whoreism. Anamanaguchi is, in this humble mexican's opinion, the very defintion of what a band is.

They possess spirit, a certain undeniable quality of lightheartedness and joy that is simply infectious when in their presence. They radiate it, and much like our life giving sun, we turn to them when they're in the room; a certain level of gravitas rightfully owed. They have personality. Talking to each of the bandmembers, you get the distinct feeling that each one of them is their own man, and yet they work as an amazing unit. They have, and this is the most important factor in an artist I feel, moreso than talent or skill with an instrument... Heart.

Not to be confused with their radiant spirit, the heart of the band is... inconceivably huge. I noticed that they took the time to talk with every fan that came up to them, and in a room that small packed so tightly after the show was over, this was no small feat. They signed autographs gladly, shot the shit with some folks, took pictures and even gave hugs of gratitude. This was nothing short of amazing, and you know why?

IT SHOWS THAT THEY'RE PEOPLE.

They're human, just like you and me, and despite their rapidly approaching fame and fortune which they truly truly deserve, they stay humble and grateful to their fans, and they deserve all the praise and success they've been having. I wish I could say more, but I'm rapidly passing out. So I leave off with a bit of advice for the casual reader of this article.

See them. As soon as you can. Because these young men are wielders of an exceptionally powerful magic. They weave their power into music, trapping and bewitching young minds, and you wouldn't want it any other way. It feels natural (odd, considering their music is all developed by a hacked NES or two) to love their music, because it is, for all intents and purposes, Happiness distilled. You do yourself an indredible, INCREDIBLE disservice by not going to see them.

I've gone twice thus far when they've visited Meltdown Comics and did I regret going, despite having to leave my comfort zone? No, Not at all.

Keep up the amazing work guys, know that you've got yourself a fan in a mexican, right here.

-Videos to follow in the morning-

Wherein A Mexican Visits Avenue Q

So, at the risk of sounding totally camp, I love musicals. It's a combination of things really, be it the production values or lack thereof, making it absolutely charming in it's simplicity, the venue itself and the grandeur they possess, or the wonderful music that they might have. Toe-tapping isn't the word I'd use. If a musical's described as being a 'toe-tapping good time', it is something of a testament to fail really. I'm dubious of a lot of them though. As of this typing, their is actually a musical for Shrek, and the whole thing is reminiscent of the Wiggles as performed by Billy Connelly and a gimp in a fursuit.

Lady Gaga had a weekend free.

I'm no musical buff, I'm rather shamed to admit. I know enough in regards to certain names that were extremely influential to the scene, in particular Busby Berkeley and his obscenely detailed and grand displays, but aside from that I'm kind of clueless. That doesn't mean I don't have an appreciation for it though. Ty top three musicals are Little Shop of Horrors, The Producers, and South Park: The Movie. Yes, South Park was in fact a musical and Matt and Trey have cleared up the misconception that it wasn't. The Producers a lot of people didn't like, but I didn't have a major problem with it. I might be biased though, being a rather fervent fan and supporter of anything Mel Brooks related. As for Little Shop, Levy Stubbs' voice was one of a kind, and filling in for a giant foul-mouthed man-eating plant was just too awesome beyond words. Though a bit of wind gets taken out of his sails when you compare Audrey 2's voice to that of Mother Brain from the utterly mind-blowing terribleness that was Captain N: The Game Master.

Show me the fear in your eyes!

I'm happy to include Avenue Q in this growing list, having waited close to 6 years to see it. I'd wanted to go see it in Vegas during my last trip out there, but I was sorely lacking in bread. That and it was during my sister's birthday, so breaking off to go out and do my own thing could have been considered something of a faux pas. Plus I didn't have the stuff that you use to actually do things that are worthwhile. Money, that's the ticket. So I treated myself on my birthday, something I never have the chance to do, and went to go see Avenue Q at the Pantages! To say I was giddy with excitement was a vast understatement.

The Pantages is right on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and it really is quite wonderful to walk down and look at the Stars. On a much more ridiculous note, not but three blocks away from The Pantages is a High Church of Scientology, with an exhibit on the life of L.Ron Hubbard.

Puppets on rocket beds, and Lord Xenu's madness, all on the same street. Only in California folks. Only in California.

So, what's Avenue Q about, and why is it so popular? Well, it's a musical play done in a sort of slice of life fashion, following the trials and tribulations of Princeton, a grad student fresh out of college, having earned his BA in English. Unable to find an affordable place to live in New York, he walks through town until he gets to the titular Avenue Q having worked his way down from Avenue A and even Hell's Kitchen. The rent is cheap, and his neighbors, while exceptionally odd, are nice enough, and he rents out an apartment there. His neighbors include Brian (an out of work comedian), his fiancee Christmas Eve, (a Japanese immigrant with two Master's Degree's in Social Work and Therapy but is unable to get any clients); Rod and Nicky, who share an apartment (but one of them is an extremely closeted homosexual), Kate Monster, a lovable kindergarten teacher's aid with a gigantic heart (but she can't seem to find a boyfriend), and Trekkie Monster (a shameless porn addict).

Oh, and the Superintendent is Gary Coleman. (Who made a lot of money that got stolen by his folks.)

Plus they're all puppets, with exception to Brian, Christmas, and Gary.

It sucks to be you!

Sure it sounds utterly bizarre, but really this only scratches the surface of the delightful cauldron of madness.

-Part 2 to follow-