Spring Break
North Star rocked by Slideshow
Foul-mouthed folk-rocker wins hearts; communist prick molests young girl
Aaron Sakulich
Issue date: 10/22/04 Section: Entertainment
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I've heard about the North Star Bar before but never been there. It's sort of like the France of drinking, and if you don't know what I mean by that, re-read the first sentence in this review more carefully. Anyway, unlike France, I actually went to the North Star Bar on the 16th to see the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players. I went to see a somewhat obscure concert specifically blended with geeky ingredients for maximum nerd flavor, and what I got instead was the ride of my life.
The North Star, to start with, is a pretty cool place. It's a bar with pool tables in the back and a concert hall alongside. The beer is cheap and plentiful, and it looked like they had good food. If you're lucky enough to get one of the four tables in the concert hall, you don't even have to get up.
Here's the downside to the North Star: their concert hall is long and thin. This is good when everyone behaves, but all it takes is one a-hole to block everyone's vision. Of the few dozen people there, everyone was sitting so as to let others see, but this one group of old people along the side insisted on standing. Which wouldn't have been a problem until their friend, a pudgy fellow in emo glasses, decided to stand, displaying his recently-fondled-by-a-man ass for all behind him to see. I kid you not, that piece of blue-shirted gristle wasn't going to move no matter how politely the hot chick behind me asked him, so bear in mind that I only saw the 30% of this show not obscured by an enormous cornhole. Mr. emo glasses: if you're reading this, I hope you die. You're what's wrong with America.
But enough about the audience; on to the show. The first opening act was a folk singer named Jessica Delfino. Let me be absolutely clear about this, without any exaggeration: if you had to pay one live human baby in exchange for a ticket to her show, it would be worth it. More than worth it. She played folk music, which is one of the two things I hate to hear (the other is anything about communism,) but folk music that transcended all boundaries of awesomeness: it was dirty. It was filthy, crude, degenerate folk music. I've hear some Arlo Guthrie in my day, and I can't recall him using anything vulgar, let alone a mix of many vulgarities in a single time. Jessica Delfino did, and that is what has, in my mind, placed her upon a golden throne labeled "queen of music."
The North Star, to start with, is a pretty cool place. It's a bar with pool tables in the back and a concert hall alongside. The beer is cheap and plentiful, and it looked like they had good food. If you're lucky enough to get one of the four tables in the concert hall, you don't even have to get up.
Here's the downside to the North Star: their concert hall is long and thin. This is good when everyone behaves, but all it takes is one a-hole to block everyone's vision. Of the few dozen people there, everyone was sitting so as to let others see, but this one group of old people along the side insisted on standing. Which wouldn't have been a problem until their friend, a pudgy fellow in emo glasses, decided to stand, displaying his recently-fondled-by-a-man ass for all behind him to see. I kid you not, that piece of blue-shirted gristle wasn't going to move no matter how politely the hot chick behind me asked him, so bear in mind that I only saw the 30% of this show not obscured by an enormous cornhole. Mr. emo glasses: if you're reading this, I hope you die. You're what's wrong with America.
But enough about the audience; on to the show. The first opening act was a folk singer named Jessica Delfino. Let me be absolutely clear about this, without any exaggeration: if you had to pay one live human baby in exchange for a ticket to her show, it would be worth it. More than worth it. She played folk music, which is one of the two things I hate to hear (the other is anything about communism,) but folk music that transcended all boundaries of awesomeness: it was dirty. It was filthy, crude, degenerate folk music. I've hear some Arlo Guthrie in my day, and I can't recall him using anything vulgar, let alone a mix of many vulgarities in a single time. Jessica Delfino did, and that is what has, in my mind, placed her upon a golden throne labeled "queen of music."
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