812 E.Hastings St: nominal presents vapid.

One by one the scensters enter through the alley - one familiar converse imprint over the other.
Turning the corner from Hawks Ave, in what appears to be the remnants of some failed fucking warehouse on the edges of the DTES is a makeshift venue for marginal characters and the music they like.

Determined to withhold making premature judgments on the crowd, I hoped the Pabst Blue Ribbon would help encourage an impartial mindset. But the scenesters kept coming, each as androgynous as the last, all indistinguishable from the rest. So I kept sipping on Pabst, and kept thinking about pastel coloured cupcakes (which is what I do when I'm scared for my life) until Vapid got on stage.



What a great performance by Katie! The drummer was skinny and pale and slouching and really tired looking, but he was good, too. They played an awesome set that didn't last long enough.

I most totally "copped" their "shit" (it's a super cool clear 7") from Sean the birthday boy, who turned old enough to be my dad again this year. That keeps happening like every year...

Thankfully, tseh-tseh dropped me off at home in the 'burbs and I didn't fall down. The thrill of surviving the night kept me up and blogging til 6am, and here you go. It's not great, but you volunteered to waste your time here, and that's not my fault.



 
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