Treefallinginthewoods, Treefallinginthewoods...

(Ari Up and the new Slits configuration)

So Ari Up and The Slits played Don Pedro's (still the worst venue in Brooklyn, though the basement at The Charleston is a close second in pointlessness) oh... a week ago at this point, and what should have been a welcome home party for Dead Dog and Shellshag and Stupid Party and Bad Blood (that's everyone on the bill) ended up being marred by an aging lady whose sense of entitlement and divatude is misrepresented as "punk."

One way or another, and for the benefit of those closest to me in the situation I won't name them, Ari managed to get a few of my friends kicked out of the bar and when they left, all THEIR friends left. A few baseless claims of offense, a bogus wounded sense of pride and one hair-flipping-teeth-sucking-on-stage-on-mic tantrum later, and The Slits are playing to an empty house with a few Japanese Brooklyn College Fanboys (the worst kind) and some older holdouts from the original scene -- basically Ari doing Slits karaoke by herself defiantly in an act of pure narcissism. So I was torn because -- hey -- how often do you have a name band all to yourself? But then again, my loyalties always end up with the people I know and the bands they're with. The Slits don't know me from Adam except for the guitarist, Michelle, who is a lousy advertiser in that I had no idea she was in the band (seriously. I still can't wrap my head around how I didn't know that).


(Michelle has a really long cord, allowing her to escape to freedom)

Now, one could say that Ari Up can be excused as just another holdout/true believer who has done a lot of drugs in her past, and that anything she does or says that offends should just be dismissed as the effects of a life of living the dream. This also lets her off the hook. One could go the other way and say that she's Ari Up and who the fuck am I to criticize her, considering her history and all that she comes with and why should she care what I think? Well, that's kind of the point, isn't it? I mean, the medium is the message and if she wants to prance around in a shitty empty bar in the border-country of Brooklyn then God bless her. Let her stay there. It keeps the rest of us from having to listen to her.


(This way leads to madness)