the giants live in brooklyn.
and every summer, they play at the prospect park bandshell in the celebrate brooklyn performing arts festival.
... but they still make us wait.
there were a lot of kids there. by the end of the concert, they had learned that a bastard is somene who wants to hit you,
and a music critic is someone who leans back, crosses his arms, and smugly says, "well, fuck you guys."
john l. had his own spotlight for most of the show. (flansy wouldn't hold still long enough for any single spotlight to capture him.)
after they sang a little bit about the f train and the gowanus canal, they played about half of the songs on their new album.
during "it's kickin' in," the floodlights blinded the audience in time with the yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! part.
there were a lot of weird lights, including this whole row dedicated to illuminating a bunch of leaves.
john l. managed to make the introduction to "james k. polk" a total slam against bush & his war,
so we couldn't hear the whole first verse of the song because people were cheering and hollering.
I had no idea what any of the words were to songs from no!, so instead of singing along
I waved my camera around above my head to see what the light-trails would look like.
if I were better at this I probably could have spelled a word. "love"?
millennium hand and an eon hand / when they meet it's a happy land / powerful man; universe man.
john f. said, "we need an outdoor confetti cannon... it would have more throw."
the token back to brooklyn fell between the grating, and we're just watching it sinking.
during "robot parade," I let the very exuberant kid next to me grab on to my arm
and bounce up and down to get a good view. (robots obey what the children say.)
john linnell solo time. crooning to the acolytes.
egad, a base tone denotes a bad age!
(and, to charm the hometown crowd, they sang the dial-a-song verse too)
she king of brooklyn she / master of all she surveys / lives a life unencumbered by me / she king of brooklyn she.
wockerjabby