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Location: Montreal

Thursday, May 18, 2006

electric summer

i'm a sucker for a meaty guitar riff.
not all guitar riffs mind you, because there are a lot fools and heathens out there peddling half-assed, masturbatory string wankery as meaty riffage, so tread carefully and go with your gut.
it's best to ask yourself A) is this riff being played with passion and conviction? and B) does this riff have that special something that you can't quite put your finger on? let's call it Zazz.
it does?
then crank it my friend.
you ear drums will grow back later on, it's cool.
so anyway, i was wandering around downtown the other day, enjoying the sun and scenery and the wonder of portable riffage courtesy of Cyrus, my beloved iPod.
i was in one of my moods... let's call it "exceptionally stoked". it's always a blessing to stumble into a mood like this for no good reason, so you have to nurture the mood properly and hopefully sustain it for several hours. i did this by clicking over to one of my louder and more epic playlists, affectionately titled "Most Triumphant".
and most triumphant it was.
perhaps too triumphant, because i began displaying outward signs of Rock Affirmation.
some of these signs include:
silently screaming the chouruses of songs
swinging my arms and walking like a retard just to stay in time with the music
random and fitfull snapping, clapping and "yeahhh!"-ing
subtle yet vigorous blasts of air guitar
these are all fine ways to behave when attending a rock concert or house party, but behaving this way while cruising the crowded sidewalks of the city in the summer is a sure way to draw some disapproving "what's up with that guy?" type stares.
for example: i was stopped at a busy intersection, waiting for the lights to change. the song i was just listening to faded out and i was greeted by the opening riff of Black Sabbath's "Symptom of the Universe".
and i was helpless.
i cannot hear this song without bending slightly at the knees, leaning back and shredding like i'm in some kind of hostage situation where the only way i can subdue my attackers and free my friends and lovers is by shredding on my air guitar to this song.
the riff is just absolutely menacing.
it's the kind of riff that if it were a person it would sneak into your house at night and wake you up by jumping on your bed, chugging that bottle of single malt whiskey you were saving for the cottage, smashing your favorite chair against your favorite TV and pleasuring your once cold and distant wife until she was writhing like a stripper on acid, all at the same time.
as i said before, i was helpless.
in a heavy shred like this i sometimes close my eyes. sometimes i even go as far as throwing my head back and grimacing, but this time i just closed my eyes.
it felt appropriate.
slash that; it felt necessary.
when i opened my eyes i noticed some of the people waiting across the street were watching my performance and laughing, giving me the thumb's up.
i'd like to think that they knew i had no other course of action.
and maybe they did.
if they knew exactly what i was listening to they would nod approvingly in unison, "he's doing the right thing."
and this brings me to my Great Dream.
someday, somewhere in public, with my headphones strapped on securely, i will once again be forced to spontaniously burst into a face melting air guitar solo. as i do this i will turn and see a supple and gorgeous young woman, also wearing headphones (and perhaps hot denim cutoffs and a leather bra) and shredding heavily on her own air guitar. as we walk slowly towards each other, lost in rapture, we will realise we are playing the exact same riff from the exact same song at the exact same moment. this realization will set off a romantic frenzy in her brain, an uncalculated rush of estrogen and endorphins and whatever else attacking her senses, and for a quarter of a second she almost contemplates tossing off her headphones and jumping into my wirey, pale arms, but her eyes catch mine and they lock and she knows from my stern but flirty glare that we must finish the song.
but it's too much.
so we just finish the good part of the song.
then a polite introduction and maybe a sit and a drink.
to calm us down, make us sensible for a second.
that's when i'll request unrestricted access to her boobs.
and if i play my cards right, she just might grant it.
here i am.
rock you like a hurricane.

1 Comments:

Blogger chadiplax said...

I love you. You need to rock. You also need to balance your rock with...smooth.

!!!!YACHT ROCK!!!!

Google it and watch it. You will thank me, and yourself.

10:46 PM  

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