On Saturday Walker and I headed to Kansas City to spend the day with Kelly Sheline and to see Pavement.
It was pretty wonderful: a delicious bruschetta and shrimp salad lunch, a frenzied search for a bar where we could settle in to watch the OU game resulting in us stumbling upon Walker's dream scenario (imagine heated screaming matches over what restaurant in town has the best barbecue sauce), eating way, way, way too much (brisket, ribs, "burnt ends") at Gates, finally sipping on a Boulevard and getting to marvel at the Uptown Theatre which is just the kind of setting I want all my birthday parties, wedding and funeral to be in, super neat.
I really like Kansas City. I really like every city.
Despite having one of the most awe-inspiring breadths of musical knowledge and collection, Walker Robins is decidedly and firmly not hip. In fact, the guy spent most of the trip going on and on about Lil' Wayne's upcoming, once free from prison, collab with Tech N9ne while sporting a Tech N9ne t-shirt.
He came with me.
And I certainly came down with some anxiety. What am I doing here? People die over Pavement. They own biographical books and every EP. My favorite band is Wilco and my favorite artist is Bruce Springsteen and I can't stop listening to Punch Brother's Antifogmatic album and I'm torn between the juxtaposition of Katy Perry's video for Teenage Dream and Taylor Swift's for Mine. I feel like such a poser.
But Stephen Malkmus in an over-sized Chiefs jersey was just too perfect for me to have ever thought of passing up on.
Pavement is Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain is Stephen Malkmus solo is Silver Jews is being mesmerized by every tangled aspect of living life is seeing things and thinking things differently is junior year of high school and Nate Arnold moving in down the street with all of his great music and though it wasn't like I didn't like music before, it was literally like a light being turned on, this is what I want out of music.
Spit On A Stranger, Pavement.