Friday, November 23, 2007

Red Carpet Massacre Love

As you may or may not have heard/seen/read lately, my boo boos have a new album out.

Duran Duran's Red Carpet Massacre was released a few weeks ago and if you haven't rushed out to buy it yet, I urge you to do so. And I'm not saying that because I'm biased or because I think Simon Le Bon won't be able to eat if you don't. I'm saying that because it's really good.

Sure, I didn't become a huge fan until the Medazzaland era, which might cause some to say my taste is questionable, and I don't quite hate Thank You as much as Q Magazine, but still, I'm not that biased. I can recognize that not everything Duran Duran puts out is pure gold.

But Red Carpet Massacre is truly a good album. I actually was lucky enough to hear it several months before its release and I loved it even back then in its very raw form. It's seeming to get mixed reviews within the Duranie community, but I think that has a lot to do with the presence of Justin Timberlake and Timbaland.

Some people just don't like change. Anyway, whatevs, I love it, and I think you should buy a copy.

Plus, maybe Simon is hungry. I don't know.

(hey, at least there was no "like the wolf" pun there).

Anyway, to promote the album's release, the boys did a 10-show run on Broadway at the Barrymore Theatre. Well... it supposed to be a 10 show run. It was going brilliantly, until it was cut short ("massacred", if you will) by the strike. I was lucky enough to attend one of the shows while it was still at the Barrymore, and it really was something to behold. One of the best Duran Duran shows I've ever been to.

It even had a seriously cute Broadway style playbill, complete with "Cast" bios and shit:
SIMON LEBON (Simon). Mr. LeBon made his theatre debut in the West End production of Tom Brown's School Days. He is thrilled to return to the stage in the Broadway production of Duran Duran's Red Carpet Massacre.
As a young child, LeBon's appearance as "the boy in the dirty shirt" in a TV commercial for Persil (powdered laundry detergent) left him with a profound sense of inferiority which, it has been hypothesized, provided the impetus which has spurred him on ever since.

(it goes on like that. Very cute.)

Unfortunately, I was about 6 inches from the speaker so the sound on my clips is not at all a fair representation of what the night was like, but I'm posting them anyway.

Last Chance on the Stairway

All She Wants Is

And let's face it -- if it's good enough for tiny billionaire Mary Kate Olsen, it should be good enough for you.

She was rocking out. So was the guy behind her. Didn't see him? Watch it again.

Can I just say, I know I've had my beef with MK in the past, but seeing her enjoying herself like that really made me kind of like her. Am I softening in my old age? Probably, but really, any fan of Duran Duran is a friend of mine.

Well, except the batshit crazy ones. (And there's no shortage of them, let me tell you.)

Anyway, Mary Kate was totally cute and kind of awesome and I don't think I'm going to mean to her anymore. She was totes smiling too. I hope her kidney's okay.

By the way, that was Donald Trump sitting in front of her. He was with Melania and Donald Jr., two rows behind me on the floor up until the intermission when they moved him up to the balcony. At the end of the show, his ass was standing up and swaying to the music, which kind of puts him in my good books now too. Oh plus he totally kept winking at me during intermission so yeah, he's totally cool. :-)

At first I thought it was Lydia Hearst with Mary Kate, but then it occurred to me that an heiress would totes not be rocking a Sass and Bide from '05.

So anyway, where the hell was I?

Ahh yes, the concert. It was phenomenal. Here's a clip of Ordinary World that will probably make your ears bleed because of that whole speaker proximity issue, but if you have a good imagination, you'll probably like it.

Me and Paul. I'm on the right.

So the following Saturday, after seeing Bon Jovi with Stacy, I went into the city to hang with Paul, Alan, Cell Phone Al, and even Dom. When I asked how that night's show went, that's when I found out about the strike. Total bummer -- and I didn't even have tickets for any of the remaining shows. I felt so bad for them!

To the management's credit, they spent the next two days BUSTING ASS to get the show rescheduled at the Roseland for Monday and Tuesday. Of course you had people complaining that it wasn't the same experience and that it was GA instead of assigned seats, but they offered a refund and hell... it wasn't their fault, so get over it.

Truth be told, it kind of ended up working out for me because up until then it had been a "no comps" tour and the larger venue allowed me to get my ass on the guest list so, well... yay. I was up in the city with Matt for the Ben Sherman sample sale anyway, so it worked out great. I knew he would love the show too, so off we went.

While we were greeting Paul outside (while he was waiting for Adrien Brody) we saw Heather Graham go in. How cute is she, by the way? And where the hell has she been?

So anyway, does anyone remember when I blogged about Genesis, and I was bitching about drunk people at concerts? Yeah... well, my bad. :-)

We don't know either.

To say I was a hot mess would be the understatement of the year. "Raging embarassment" would probably be more apropos. Matt was in a similar state, but probably not to the extent that I was. I was dancing my ASS off, though and it was like the best time EVER. Matt totally loved it too. I think we can now safely say that Skin Divers is "our song". I should use this time to publicly apologise to the guy whose beer I knocked out of his hand during "She's Too Much." I had every intention of buying you a new one when the song was over (it's my fave) but my drunken self had forgotten about 10 seconds later. The fact that my bag was on one side of the floor, my Sidekick on the other, and I was somewhere in between should have told you I was a lost cause. I'll get you next time. ;-)

So back to my original point, even if you missed out on the juicy goodness that was these shows, you can still be a part of the magic. Buy Red Carpet Massacre and you can pretend you were there. You won't regret it.

And if you do, at least you don't know where I live. :-)

No comments: