I decided to not go to last night’s Interpol show. I had purchased a large amount of beauty supplies from Sunflower in the Gateway Wellness Area’s clearance sale. So applying a beauty mask while bumping Gucci Mane seemed more fun.
While I was rinsing with warm water to open my pores up, I remembered a funny story about Interpol. It was around the time of the 2004 Election. I was helping Downtown 4 Democracy throw events because I am a vegan activist. We threw an afterparty for Interpol’s Newport Music Hall show at Bento. I think a guy from the Secret Machines was dejaying. Who knows. Carlos Dangler and company showed up and I think Chris Lustko coerced Carlos Dangler and Interpol to go to a house party. I think maybe at Liam’s house.
Anyway, I was rolling with Daymon, Levdon, maybe Kate Fink, and the homie Gaybar in the white van that Daymon never asked for gas money to fill-up.
Gaybar and I had become friend because him, Thug Mayor, Boxhead, Taco Mouse, and Big Marty wrote silly ass graffiti everywhere. The combination of vandalism and comedy was a dream come true to me. So we became pretty tight quickly.
Carlos Dangler and Interpol came to the party hoping to get some Buckeye sex. But they had regressed into aging hipster lack of game. Basically, you stand around, and hope someone recognizes you, because you lack the ability to talk anymore.
Finally, a girl comes over to the still in costume Interpol.
Gaybar interrupted with rude questions for Carlos Dangler and company, like, “Why are you guys wearing suits? My dad wears a suit. You guys must be old. Do you know my dad?” Gaybar asked in a manner that you actually thought that Interpol could be insuarance salesmen from your parent’s church.
Interpol is speechless.
Girl walks away not wanting to talk to some creepy old insurance agent from Gaybar’s parents church.
Next girl walks up to Interpol.
Gaybar chimes in, “You talk funny. Are you from somewhere else?” Interpol responds, “We are from New York.” Gaybar sounding disappointed replies, “Oh, I thought your were from somewhere cool like Hawaii. Do you know anyone from Hawaii? Hawaii is cool.”
Girl walks away, not wanting to talk people from uncool places like New York City,
Finally, Interpol gives up. They ask their handler to call a cab to get back to their tourbus.
Gaybar yells 444-4444 at them.
Interpol’s cab arrives, and Carlos Dangler goes back to the Peter Pan with balls the opposite color of SooWoo.
Haha…I was just telling someone about this party the other day. We were kind of assholes to them that night. I remember sitting on the porch asking the lead singer guy if he ever listened to Pink Floyd…asking really obnoxious music questions. He was actually a pretty nice dude, but having Carlos D. in you band makes you open to any and all ridicule.
This was obviously a memorable event in the writer’s life for him to take the time to hammer out his story on a keyboard….but it’s incredibly boring. I want my seven minutes back. I didn’t realize DW was hard up for content.
my chain, my chain.
dont you like my chain?
not as boring as your band “x rated cowboys”
well, what’s your point?….I’m also not writing boring articles about my band on a website. Let’s stick the topic at hand.
Sorry, I didn’t realize this comment function was only for waxing dull dribble.
nice try though, hank
“old age”
“stupidity”
keep reaching hank
born savior allah… power be justice
If it is so boring you should try to rewrite it making the story more “segal-friendly”. Please?
anti 4 devils.
C’mon. Must you waste our time with this silly, ham-handed attempt at an amusing anecdote? Who needs boring, grammatically atrocious excerpts from your diary? It just doesn’t deliver on any level. The joke isn’t on Interpol- it’s on you and the flocks of self-important hipster clowns that plague this town like lice on a two-dollar whore. the one shred of insight I could glean from your witless little tale is this: you and your brothers/sisters in smarm obviously feel quite threatened by hardworking, sucessful people. Too chickenshit to acknowledge your own shortcomings, you play retarded playground games on whomever the latest scapegoat du jour happens to be. So your buddy cock-blocked some dopey musician. Way to stick it to the Man, dude! What a digustingly vivid illustration of the Columbus Conundrum- being that this town will NEVER be a real player, culturally speaking, as long as the deck is stacked by lazy, derivative scenetards who are too busy collecting cool points to ever PRODUCE SOMETHING ORIGINAL. Wes, if you put half the effort into your “vegan activisim” that you expend on shameless namedropping, you might actually affect some real positive change. believe me, I’m no Interpol fan – they stike me as bogus, preening dorks – but wasn’t that obvious from the getgo? Are they assuming a pose any more so than you? Last time I checked, you’re a white, middle-class guy from the suburbs, not late 70s Brooklyn.
WES! Please waste my time with humorous storys. i used to come to this blog for serious discussion about serious stuff (can you believe that guy from the decemberists? Does file sharing harm musicians?). but now i realize that music and culture can be entertaining! bcaulley is right! hipsters suck! blech! they are making columbus suck!
brian,
click on the hyperlinks.
if you still don’t get it, then i will do my best to explain it to you.
i love how people write paragraph long diatribes about what a waste of time it was to read this.
personally, i thought it was a funny story.
Yo this wasss funny.
bips, it’s the type of thing you had to be there for, but since you weren’t y’alls got the envy, and Wes is just tryna let you in a little bit. Anyway, if you were at a party and some self-important fucks walked up in expensive suits acting cooler-than, then didn’t talk to anybody, wouldn’t you ask what the fuck they were doing at the party? Wes and the rest were just trying to make them feel included.
perhaps you had to be there, which is exactly why it fails miserably as an actual column on DW. It really just smacks of name dropping and an elitist attitude…which in Columbus makes you look silly. I think the rest of us see the real story which is that Interpol didn’t give a fuck about hanging out in your shit-hole campus apartment where, more than likely, there wasn’t any quality ass.
respect my viking queen.
where can i get a print of that gaybar?
autographed too?
somebody got sand in their vagina
anyways
funny story weswes
gaybar 4 lyfe
Sorry :(