Paul Siegell


*11.19.05 – Bright Eyes – Academy of Music, PA*

                                                                                                                                   lip-ringed
                                                                                                                         emo/mod teen boys
                                                                                                                              in shirts &
                                                                                                                ties, skinniness thrift
                                                                                                                    store sweaters,
                                                                                                              Chuck Taylors, scene-
                                                                                                                 sharp corduroy-
                                                                                                                          blazer
                                                                                                                        rebel-
                                                                                                                      lions
                                                                                                                    against
                                                                                                                  bum-
                                                                                                               slacker
                                                                                                             sloppy
                                                                                                           prede-
                                                                                                         cessors,
                                                                                                        hair
                                                                                                     hangin’
                                                                                                    —the
                                                                                                  show’s
                                                                                                sold
                                                                                              out;
                                                                                            who’s
                                                                                          been
                                                                                        their
                                                                                      youth
                                                                                   group
                                                                                advisor?
                                                                 what “indie” summer
                                                 camp counselor turned them onto
                                             the undercurrents of the overculture?
                                          or,    is it that it’s always cool to be part
                                        of the few? the decision to go was only
                                      just made today: (((any extras?))) felt
                                   good to pointer finger up again: (((any
                             extras?))) kinda like phish lot—(((anyone
                       got any extras here?)))—only I was the only
               one and it was nothing like phish lot. sidewalk on
         avenue a-the arts, broad & locust, center city: father to
    14-year-old with style                    snipped at different angles
  had one, nice, gave him                   face value, 30; he goes, “I’ll
see you in there,” as if he               thot I’d just resell to someone
else and profit. in there: beer, call to brooklyn luke, and “this
must be your lucky” ticket landed us in the night’s 10th row
of the red & gold academy: a theatre older than federation
of canada, with crystal chandelier of circumference, well,
 humongous, ceiling murals of allegorical ghosts, bust
    of mozart in bas-relief crowning proscenium arch,
         and above stage right: seated figure of poetry—
             and above stage left: that of music. there
                 were 14-year-old girls ev’rywhere

            —these kids, these teens: of an unlike
          genre, yet similar in subculture—they give
       me hope: just before conor oberst and his bright
    eyes saw to the stage—They’re gonna be The Ones—
our chaperone’s daughter—Teenage Brains Are The
Coolest—took out pad and pen—IGNITE OUR EYES!—
prepping to note the setlist of her Internet-bound abun-




                                             dance.



Paul Siegell can't write about every concert he goes to, but hopes you enjoy the ones he does. More of this series, and others, will one day hit bookshelves in the forms of jambandbootleg and Poemergency Room. "Whooo's got my publisher?" Kindly link to more of his work at ReVeLeR @ eYeLeVeL.


 
 
 
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