Vincent Gallo, Sean Lennon, Bob Weir, & The Ghost of a Saber Toothed Tiger
Wednesday, Aug. 12, 2009
Red Devil Lounge
Better than: Getting what you expected, every time.
Going to a Vincent Gallo show is a bit like dropping money into one of those claw arcade games. You pay the fee and hope to grab a valuable jackpot, something worth the price of putting your trust into such a fickle, teasing instrument. You do this in part because when the claw grabs a tangible prize (a giant teddy bear! a performance where Gallo engages his fans and plays fleshed out songs!) it makes all the touch and go worth it. But the odds are too often on the hollow–or nonexistent–spoils.
Last night the actor/cultural provocateur/musician/sperm salesman sold out the Red Devil Lounge, bringing together a room full of people hoping to grab the Gallo prize. And what'd we get for paying into his prima donna playbook? A night of truly bizarre, unscripted, and yeah, frustrating entertainment. It was either a total bust or exactly the theater of the absurd fans appreciate from this slippery musician who, at the very least, keeps them in pursuit.
For my part, I enjoyed the show, in part because the whole event was so offbeat. But the tease wasn't for everyone– one woman gave the entire bathroom line an earful about how she didn't pay $16 to “hear Vincent Gallo play one long song and leave.” She obviously saw the claw as half empty.