Queer As Pop

There is nothing like dancing, gentle reader. One considers it as one of the first refinements of polished societies; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world: every savage can dance. So it was that one danced like there was no tomorrow at Queer As Pop... although that is rather an odd name for what their promotional materials describe as ‘indie rock’, don’t you think?

Two live bands appeared, supposedly to entertain the audience. Suffice to say that both failed, miserably. Does the expression ‘The Waves Pictures’ mean anything? Does it not strike you as having no significance whatsoever, not to mention sounding quite ungramatical and uninteresting? If you say the words ‘The Waves Pictures’ aloud, does it not sound discordant? In that case, it is a perfectly apt name for the first of the two groups. As for New Rose Hotel, one would elect to withdraw thorns from the rectum of an angry hippopotamus rather than endure the squat female lead-singer of that group damaging my eardrums with her shrieking into a microphone again.

One encountered the usual problem at an indie night, whether straight or gay; with Mr DJ playing rebel to the bourgeoisie of the paying public, by offering a selection of the dreariest, most deservedly obscure, b-sides from his collection... all in an effort to bolster his personal credibility, one assumes. Like other afficionados in the audience, one would appreciate this as a form of entertainment in the comfort of a living room, but the fact remains it is quite annoyingly unsuitable for the purposes of gentle flirtation while dancing.

Glaz’Art is a pleasing venue, the only one in Paris where one has danced until dawn (last spring, in the company of X, G and D) although on this occasion eligible gay gentlemen were outnumbered by under-age drinkers who had smuggled half-bottles of cheap vodka to mix with cheap rum, with the objective of passing out in a puddle of their own vomit alongside the only toilet in the building that was not backed-up... all of which detracted somewhat from the splendour of the evening.

But despite all of the above- not to mention arriving alone, having to queue for admission, having to queue for my coat and hat on departure and departing alone- there were some mildly diverting moments, with a selection of indie-pop treats from Interpol, Ladytron, The Go! Team, and The Kaiser Chiefs, to name but a few.

There you have it, gentle reader; all the glamour of the alternative gay scene, brought to life for you!