Last night, we went to the Funky Buddha Lounge downtown. Yeah, on a Thursday. I tell you: we are cah-ray-zay. Keene was going to play his first hip-hop show--alongside his drummer-friend Mike--playing backup for the local rapper, Time.
I had never been to Funky Buddha, but heard it was a dance club where all the guys dress like Kanye West. Okey-dokey. Sounds good to me.
Kortney and me, getting our hip-hop on:
Okay, you got me. I don't know how to get a hip-hop on at all and I probably stuck out like a hippie's sore thumb.
While I had a positive first impression of the club right off the bat (swanky-yet-interesting furniture, lively music, intriguing murals on the walls), this was soured very quickly by the bartender. Now, I understand that bartenders are supposed to be jerks. That's like their shtick. The bartenders at my beloved Falling Rock don't have the best reputation for being nice guys (although I find them to be just dandy).
While ordering a drink, I couldn't hear what he was saying over the sound system blaring some autotuned garbage. "Excuse me? What?" He reached over, lifted the earflap to my hat, and shouted in my ear. As if the medium worsted weight yarn were the real perpetrator of our miscommunication.
Douche club bartender = 1, Kelli = 0.
Nevertheless, I consider myself the real winner in this scenario, because I'm the one that got to drink a Guinness right then and he didn't.
Kelli (and Kort) = 1,000,000. Douche club bartender = 0.001
Moving along, here's a little something for the ladies...
Or the gay men. Or just the connoisseurs of fine buttocks, regardless of gender.
(Knowing that Keene's family reads this blog, isn't it odd that I still openly objectify him on here? It would appear my personal brain-filter is not compatible with Blogger. For that, I apologize. I would probably be a much more tactful person on WordPress.)
The opener was Doctype, who produces tracks for Time and other members of the Dirty Lab, as well as creating his own music:
And here's where it gets colorful, and not even because I was playing around in Photoshop.
Then Time, AwareNess, Keene, and Mike took the stage. Their chemistry was clear and amazing. While I was a fan of Time's before, I was blown away by this performance. The addition of a bass and drums (and keys) seemed to energize him, make his style explode.
Towards the end of the show, the singer of Petals of Spain jumped onstage for an impromptu jam session.
But more importantly, I remembered to use the camera flash.
Around 1:30-freaking-a.m., we packed up the gear and headed home for a few hours of shut-eye before getting up for work. Just like true rock-stars.