Pretence and pop

If there's anything that bugs me it's pretence (well, pretence and unnecessarily squeaky footwear).  Maybe I'm just on a bit of an honesty kick this week but that whole "I know that you know that I don't really mean what I'm saying but for the sake of keeping the social machine ticking along smoothly let's both agree to ignore it" thing just annoys the fat out of me (I was going to say "crap" but I figure there's probably more fat than there is crap circulating in my system and fat is a lot harder to shift, ya know?).

Which is not to say that I am not without pretense myself. Hell no.  But at least I'm attuned enough to tell when I'm doing it, which is, apparently, something I have in common with Ladyhawke. 

For while I wasn't sure if it was okay to refer to Pip Brown as Ladyhawke.  You know, the whole "is that the name of the band or the lead singer?" anxiety that has long plagued not-quite fans of Marilyn Manson and Jethro Tull.  But since the Ladyhawke website bio is pretty much Pip Brown talking about herself (in the least pretentious way possible, mind you) I figure that probably the heavens will not open up and smite me down with the vengeful stratocaster of Rock n Roll correctness for doing so.

Anyway, there was a gig so naturally there was playing of songs and lights and dancing and waving of arms and excessive documenting. There was a time when people would just go to a gig with the intention of watching, listening, and perhaps if they had had a lager or two, swaying a bit.  Nowadays (which is old person speak for "I am a fossil") you can barely make out what's going on past the sea of tiny screens of mobile phones and digital cameras being held aloft.  When exactly did we stop experiencing life and start recording it for posterity (or Youtube)?  But of course I did it too...see.

And as at most gigs, a certain amount of songs were played and then the band went away...ostensibly "pretending" that the gig was over even though they still hadn't played My delirium so there was no chance that they weren't going to come back.  The encore...what exactly is it for?  I mean, call me cynical (or Ishmael, whatever) but I find it difficult to get all hyped up and make a big whoop when I know for a fact that the band is coming back out shortly.  I'd much rather that they simply tell the truth and say "look, we're just going to have a quick drink and confab off to the side for a bit, but we'll come back and play another three songs, please chat amongst yourselves until we get back".  Why does there need to be this pantomime-esque "Oh no, DON'T go away yet...please come back.  Yay! You're coming back. We, like, never expected that!"

But good on Ladyhawke, she came right back and told everyone how cheesy she felt about the whole thing which makes her okay in my book.  Because it's all right to like cheese or even be the source of it, so long as you don't buy into your own hype...Brian Tamaki.  Just saying.

Oh, and in other news my taxi driver struggled to make change from the seven dollars for my fare to the $10 note I paid with.  Seriously, is this a Reserve Bank issue or is it just taxi drivers in Christchurch that are dangerously low on cash?  I actually ended up with 60 cents' worth of copper in my change, which makes me wonder if there is some heretofore unmentioned coinage shortage in this country.

But anyway, I just wondered if anyone else feels the way I do about "the encore"?  I'm sure it had some meaning at some fuzzy, out of focus point "back in the day" but is it all a bit farcical now?  Wouldn't you just rather have your entertainer du jour be straight with you or is the illusion of aloofness all part of the appeal?  Ever get the feeling that you're missing out because you're too busy capturing it all for posterity?

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Picture: Sunday News