In response to Zubes' post about Owen Pallet the fucking clown-dong, I have to say that I saw the Arcade Fire last year on their Funeral tour. I had nothing against the album at all, as far as epic whiny rock it was pretty OK, and I was really eager to like their concert, mostly b/c it was attended by literally droves of glasses-wearing George Saunders-reading art girls who I would be afraid to talk to.

But after the Arcade Fire's punishing and relentless fucking 30 hour set I was like Christ! I get it! Just because you have 79 members in your band every song has to be 13 minutes long? Does every track have to travel across space and time to encapsulate the very essence of human suffering, shortly before one of the glasses-wearing guys switches instruments for the millionth time? By the time they hit their (literally 3rd!) encore, Whiny P McGillicuddy's larynx was so exhausted from his soul-bearing (see below) that he had to let that chick take over.



Bad move! It was like when the Scissor Sisters let that Animatrunko chick get on the mic, she starts blathering about her hippy nonsense, like how "New York City is a living moving energy" or whatever. Same thing with the Arcade Fire chick, she starts cry-singing this 7 minute song about trees. Literally!

Hey Win Buttass, good thing you destroyed your guitar on SNL...
NOW YOUR ART CAN NEVER BE REPEATED, BY ANYONE, EVER!

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