Open Mike Night

To Max's last night for their Wednesday Open Mike Night. A colleague of mine, Mike, was performing and since he's always super nice to me I thought it would be a friendly gesture to attend. It's a fairly cozy spot, not too crowded but pleasantly proportioned and with a variety of tasty beers on tap. The music, though ... Bloomington is known for its music scene - our music school is world-class apparently, but man I can only listen to so many John Mayerish dudes with acoustic guitars before I get bored. There was also a large woman in a fluffy pink sweater who accompanied herself on keyboard as she sang Italian madrigals or something.

Mike, however, was awesome. His bio on the department website says that after college he "embarked on a series of misadventures involving (but not limited to) marriage, fatherhood, employment as a federal agent, and a sojourn in the Los Angeles music scene." So I was expecting him to be good. His girlfriend Sonja told me he was into punk, and I don't know from punk, but that's not exactly how I would have described it. He played songs called "Brian Wilson as a Pillow" and "Pomegranate Seeds in the Creases." He made weird noises with his guitar and twitched and spazzed around. (He's a gangly, oddly dressed guy nearing middle age with patches of wild graying hair.) He sounded sort of like if Tristan Tzara got high and then listened to The Residents all night. (I told him this and he didn't seem displeased but I kind of feel bad anyway.) It's not the kind of music I really get or enjoy, but watching him up there, so utterly in his own world, made me very happy. (Also speaking of music, I find this video absolutely hilarious:


Who is this? And what was the deal with 80's hair?)