Everywhere I Look, Pink Dots...

PHOENIX On Wednesday, November 18, Sharon C. McGovern (reporter/ editor/ publisher/ cobra-in-chief) was introduced to a band which, if the world were sane, she should have been groupie to years ago. The band of which I write is The Legendary Pink Dots, and don't worry--they haven't heard of you either.

But you really should meet. They are cut from the same cloth as Bauhaus, though I must in all fairness note that they would on average take up more yardage than Bauhaus. Loud. Dark. Gloomy. A good excuse to pull out the black lipstick. The Legendary Pink Dots are all that and more. Their drummer and soundman formed a sub-group called Twilight Circus Sound System. The drummer sported not one but two feather boas and beat on his kit with a variety of props when he wasn't running around like a lunatic screaming at people to RELAX!!! Partick, who had prior knowledge of LPD and bought the tickets to the show, dubbed him the "Gallagher of Goth Rock." Not to be unkind, but the best thing about his show was that it didn't have to be dismantled for LPD' a terrific time saver. I think they're onto something there. Like maybe Tom Tom Club could open for Talking Heads, Love & Rockets for Bauhaus, the X-pensive Winos for the Rolling Stones. You get the idea.

The show drew an interesting crowd. There were the usual assortment of goths, and baby bats hanging around No Alcohol Beyond This Point cage, but then every now and then you'd see someone who seemed either too old or too square for this scene. Partick (who was on a roll quipwise) noted that one looked like a miserable German tourist out for a night on the town with his cab driver. At least he did when the Twilight Circus played. He became quite animated for LPD.

And then there was the smoking. Let me say right off the bat, I was for it. The venue, called The Mason Jar, is a tiny place, so every time somebody lit up his or her face was briefly illuminated by firelight, an effect both flattering and exotic. The smoke gave the lights definition. And some of the smoke smelled really nice and gave me a feeling of well being when I inhaled it. I think this must have been a common effect, because right after some of this smoke went up in the area where Partick and I were sitting a bunch of guys came running from all directions of the room with their noses up in the air like springer spaniels. Then, on the first encore, singer Edward Ka-Spel bummed a cigarette off of a fan. That is going to be reason number one on my Why I Should Smoke List: A rock star might want a cigarette and I will be ready. (Don't worry, the Why I Should Not Smoke List is still longer.) When Part and I exited the club, even more coolness awaited us in the form of the drummer and the saxophone player (that's how cool the band is...they have a saxophone player who also plays flute) roaming around outside consorting with fans.

The drummer has a soft handshake.

(Written by Sharon C. McGovern)

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