The music of King Dude, on a recording, is all booming, creepy, gritty vocals. When I listen to him, I feel as though a family of dark horses are riding on ribbons of black smoke through my ear holes, and into my mind. I wanted this to translate to his...
You may not know this about me, but I'm a really huge fan of King Dude. I chose his latest album as album of the month for our October issue, and even begged the dude himself, T.J. Cowgill (who also runs the clothing line Actual Pain) to make limited editon shirts for the VICE editorial staff. Which he did. All of that being said, I had never previously seen him perform live until this past Friday, where I was front and center for his show at Europa in Brooklyn.
The show was listed as starting at 8 PM, with doors at 6 PM, but when we got there at whatever time, we were told that doors wouldn't be open till 9 PM, so we went down the street to eat nachos and drink three margaritas a piece. Are you wondering who the "we" is that I keep referring to? Probably not, but I'll tell you any way. When I say "we" I mean myself, and my sex lover. While the margarita drinking was taking place, we got into some lively discussions about sexuality, television shows, and how normal gays are gross. At one point, as I stood up to go to the bathroom, I said "I think I got accidentally drunk." And it was true.
I never really know where I'm going when I'm walking around, even if it's somewhere I've been a million times, or right down the street from my home, but a crowd of seemingly satanic youths milling about by a door told me that we had found our way back to Europa. After using the potty room and purchasing a few beers, we made our way to the stage in time to see a blonde lady singing emotionally about something. After she was done, a short amount of time passed, and then King Dude took the stage.
The music of King Dude, on a recording, is all booming, creepy, gritty vocals. When I listen to him, I feel as though a family of dark horses are riding on ribbons of black smoke through my ear holes, and into my mind. I wanted this to translate to his live performance, and I'm sure it does, but on this particular night, I feel like the Europa sound guy didn't really know what to do with what he was presented with, because I couldn't really hear the vocals at all, and everything seemed all fuzzed together. Maybe we were standing too close? Even still, I loved and relished every moment of the set for what it was, and bounced around like an idiot the whole time.
Once the emotions within my own body that led up to seeing King Dude, and then followed seeing King Dude had calmed themselves, I was ready to get REALLY drunk in time for Psychic TV's set. I had seen PTV at Europa a few years prior, and ended up leaving before the end of the show because it was too hot in there. I remember it being so hot that I felt like I was gonna shit my pants. This time around I didn't care what was going on. There was a light show, leather vests, someone's hair stank, I think I may have spit on the floor for some reason, and then we all felt like we were gonna puke at the same time, so we went home. That's about it.