Monday: Every month, Wired [1] magazine presents a barometer of current trends that relegates people, places and things to one of three categories: "wired," "tired" or "expired." Were they to take on the surprisingly dense realm of French disco producers, I suspect that Air would be "expired," Daft Punk "tired" and Justice [1], playing tonight at the Sodobox, would clinch the "wired" title in a walk. I have no hard facts to back my assertion (and I do love me some Air and Daft Punk), but I know that dance music aficionados are very fickle and fall for the new stuff like eggs from tall chickens. Plus, the front-of-book editors at Wired can be real tools.
So, anyway: Newish French disco tonight in Sodo. I'm not really into Justice, but disco's disco. If it shakes your rump for you -- and this stuff will -- then it's doing its job. M.I.A.'s beat-meister, Diplo, is also on the bill.
Tuesday: The Cult [1] has never gotten its due. Sure, they had million-sellers in "Electric" and "Sonic Temple," and no karaoke night can take place without somebody taking a Jagermeistered hack at "Fire Woman." But they're rarely mentioned in the same breath with 1980s/1990s contemporaries Metallica, Mötley Crüe and Guns N' Roses (a band that once toured with the Cult as an opening act). They belong in that heavy company, and perhaps they should even figure closer to the top of the pile -- after all, they've hemorrhaged 21 members over the past 15 years and still managed to release three albums in the time it has taken Axl Rose to make one. (He's still not freaking finished with "Chinese Democracy [2]," not that we care anymore.)
The Cult unloads two decades' worth of Led Zeppelin-isms tonight at the Showbox at the Market. Tickets are $35 (assuming they're still available), and even if the band only manages to punch out "Love Removal Machine," "She Sells Sanctuary" and "Fire Woman" before they break up for the umpteenth time, those tickets will pay for themselves.
Wednesday: Normally, when some strange man invites us to "come taste the wine (and) come blow your horn," we make a hasty walk to a well-lit area and phone the authorities. But when that strange man is wonderful local actor Nick Garrison, well, we put on our bowler hats and our fishnets and follow him to Weimar Berlin. The 5th Avenue Theatre presents Kander and Ebb's "Cabaret [2]," with Garrison as the Master of Ceremonies and Broadway veteran Tari Kelly as Sally Bowles. Songs will be sung, dances danced, gorillas serenaded -- and through it all will be Garrison, brightening the whole affair with his style and ebullience. I'd pay real money to watch him act out my cable bill.
Thursday: Four genuine Northwest comics superheroes -- Fantagraphics Comix co-founder Gary Groth, "Frank" author Jim Woodring, "Hate" creator Peter Bagge and "Lust" artist Ellen Forney -- gather at the Frye this evening to discuss the works of R. Crumb [2]. Hearing these four greats talking about the weather would be enough, but to hear them hold forth on one of the most influential comic artists of the century will be amazing. By the way, if you haven't yet seen the Frye's Crumb retrospective, you had better get off your booty -- it runs for just one more month.
Friday: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band [2] play KeyArena this evening. I must confess that I'm not the least bit familiar with Springsteen's work, but then again, everything I know about popular music I've learned from watching "American Idol." I did a Google image search on this Springsteen and OMG, he's like totally old and looks like a construction worker. He wouldn't have even made it past Paula at the auditions, even if she had tipped a few beforehand.
Oh, almost forgot: Springsteen's band has got Conan O'Brien's bandleader, Max Weinberg, on drums. He's probably the reason that Springsteen, a dude who hasn't had a Top 40 hit since before Miley Cyrus was born, was able to sell out KeyArena. I have seen the future of late-night bandleaders, and his name is Max Weinberg.
Saturday: In a world gone meaty, Seattle's vegetarians often have to fight for a decent meal [2]. The next time a clueless waiter asks my girlfriend if she's the kind of vegetarian who eats fish, I swear she's gonna kill him and let me eat his carcass.
"Tell me what kinda tree fish grow on," she'll say, calmly, as she stomps his head with her steel-toed boots. I'll look on in anticipation, chili sauce in hand. Boy, that stuff's good on everything.
I'm not here to tell you about my hobbies, but to remind you that Vegfest 2008 [2] sprouts at the Seattle Center Exhibition Hall today and tomorrow. If you're a vegetarian or have considered a vegetarian diet, this leafy love-in has got the goods: cooking demonstrations, cookbooks, health screenings and more than 500,000 free food samples. And don't worry about them running out of samples -- unlike fish, this stuff does grow on trees.
Sunday: Seattle, meet Gaelic sports. The Seattle Gaels [3] invite you to Greenwood's Magnolia Field today at noon to get a look at how the ancient Irish sports of Gaelic football and hurling are played. The former is similar to Australian rules football (indeed, it may have inspired it), while the latter resembles lacrosse and field hockey and has been played since the 13th century B.C. It's been around longer than nearly every fun thing you can think of, which I think proves its staying power.
If you like what you see today, the Gaels would love to have you join in the game yourself. Theirs is a community league, dedicated to having fun, and they welcome new players of all skill levels. Don't worry about getting hurt; though Gaelic football and hurling are fast-paced, injuries are fairly uncommon. You're more likely to fall off a barstool at the Auld Triangle afterwards.
Also: While they're not nearly as old as hurling, three-decades-strong Los Angeles punk band X [3] plays every bit as hard. Tonight and tomorrow, the band's four original members -- John Doe, Exene Cervenka, Billy Zoom and D.J. Bonebrake -- will torch the Showbox at the Market like a burnin' house of love.
Copyright © 2008 The Seattle Times Company
