With an onslaught of press releases and invites, I have the humble luck of being highly selective with my night time activities. That being said, I can seem to be quite the jaded gal, a retired hipster – party girl, interrupted.
How many open bar/energy drink special/free t shirt/ipod dj events can one succumb to until you slowly numb out and freeze to death right in the middle of Cauhenga Boulevard? My Facebook event inbox tips well over into the hundreds which I barely read any more. I’m not showing off…I’m just protesting the glut of white noise.
Sometimes it takes something extra to motivate me to cover an event, find an angle, do the interview, write the article, put on the push up bra…unless it’s free champagne and FOREIGNER. Stop the presses.
I do love my indie rock. I appreciate the singer songwriters. I love my atmospheric sweeping geniused gems. I love my dirty bluesy garage rock. I love punk ditties. BUT, classic rock and hair metal will stop me in my tracks. I’ll admit it. When I am in my car, I’m a radio flipper. I don’t use the ipod. I scan…and I find myself bored a lot with the new music stations. I often keep going back to the classic rock of KLOS. Perhaps I’m becoming an old curmudgeon. Perhaps I am just in a Zep phase…but I just want to be comforted by people who wrote their own songs, who play their own guitars, who seduce you with a solo, and who never used auto tune, even if they can’t quite hit those high notes.
I love some of these KLOS bands, not in an ironic way. Def Leppard? It’s no Mysteria why. Scorpions? What’s wrong with a night of sin? Foreigner? I’m not shy (and I used to get around).
Most of the people attending the I Heart Ronson/JC Penny event last night were there to toast Charlotte Ronson’s t shirt line for the huge department chain, or flaunt their fashionista wares, or gawk and stare at the fabulous kids who sell People Magazine.
I went to see Foreigner. Not ironically.
Mick Jones of Foreigner is the step father of designer Charlotte, music producer/scenester Mark Ronson who DJed, and DJ/scenester Samantha Ronson who, ahem, sang an opening set.
Moving through an acoustic set of hits like Double Vision, Dirty White Boy, and I Want To Know What Love Is, Foreigner then debuted a new song that Micks’ step son Mark produced. The band then ended with a spirited rendition of Hot Blooded, which even the teenage models and disaffected reality celebutantes, seemed to recognize. Maybe because it’s the anthem of making it ok to be a groupie?
Many of the well dressed lookliloos stayed on hand to sample the over abundance of free junk food and open bar cocktails and to hear Samantha spin, but with Foreigner leaving the stage, my interest plummeted.
It’s about the music.