I don’t leave my house very often once the sun goes down. When I heard a few bands were playing at the natural history museum and my legs felt too sore from over training, I figured why not make an adventure out of a Friday night.
After a week or two of delays my car’s radiator was replaced and up & running again. So what do I do once all is said and done? Continue to let it sit. While my dad loves to tell me that he is a “creature of habit” (I know loathe that phrase,) I too kept this commuter life up & running. It’s not very surprising in retrospect. I don’t like driving to begin with, let alone making my way to the congested neighborhoods that surround the natural history museum.
I had some extra time to myself before venturing on to the venue, so I stumbled upon a book store I had only heard about by word of mouth so realistically called, “the last book store.” This place is half book store, half museum. The entire place looked as though it hadn’t aged for about thirty years. With old wooden book cases, weathered books, with some titles old, some new, and a section for vinyl records.
One of the most intriguing parts of the store was the upstairs section that featured seasonal artists with their own small booth of artwork for sale. This with an Alice in Wonderland surreal walkway titled, “the labyrinth.”
The deeper and deeper one enters the path, the weirder things got. What added to the weirdness was the book selections that complimented the strange arrangements.
Most of the tiles were sci-fi along with some books that had their own separate “weird” genre.
I got lost in the bookstore for a while, then made my way to the museum.
I grabbed dinner at some Ethiopian place that was very good, but I doubt I would ever show my face after the sun went down. Great place, bad neighborhood.
Most of my stay in the museum and the book store was spent by me browsing through, not really giving a thorough look at most of the pieces there. Both places left me feeling like I could easily stay in either location all day. That being said I was left to either stay all day, or to browse and skim, so skim I did.
The main reason I went there was to see the musicians do their thing, so I couldn’t help but feel slightly distracted.
All of the artists had that electronic vibe in common which I so happen to have a soft spot for. I can remember one band that had me feeling like I was in a nightclub in the matrix. Pretty cool.
Another band resembled The Talking Heads got my tired legs moving again. And the final band had that muddy garage jam band sound but still had a sound I could dance to.
Unknown Mortal Orchestra are a group of talented Aussies that know how to go on riffs, and bring it back to the initial structure of the song. I know this because they did this during each one of their songs. While this is an impressive skill, the redundancy plateaued the mood. “Yeah you’re having fun with your solos and jammin’ out. But it’s been two minutes and I know this isn’t part of the song. Let’s try and slowly bring things ba- oh, what’s that? You’re going to keep soloing for a bit longer? Alright.”
The good and the bad aside, I enjoyed myself tremendously. Even though I had to crawl back home after the event. Commuting on a bike makes someone more connected with themselves and their immediate surroundings.
If it’s one thing I’m taking away from this, it’s that I need to go back to that book store as well as the museum for a more intimate approach.