Nightlife Performs Karma Yoga
Backstage, I told Two Door Cinema Club’s guitarist Kevin that I appreciated his pony tattoo. “I like your pony.” I said, as we took a picture together. “It’s not a pony. It’s a stallion.” Kevin replied.
Every time I enter the Rotunda 3 at HITEC, Kowloon Bay, I feel like I’m underneath a mysterious unidentified flying object, an intergalactic vahana, and I visualize the roof of the concert hall—which resembles a giant cybernetic lotus—opening up, and then a colossal hologram of the goddess Lakshmi appears, showering pink holographic lotus petals down as blessings of abundance on everyone present.
So last Tuesday, I went to a concert by UNTITLED, featuring a double-whammy of Delphic and Two Door Cinema Club. Delphic from Manchester was a solid blend of raw guitars and sharp-edged synth, and TDCC from Northern Ireland was like infectious adrenaline-filled leprechaun electropop, which, according to Pop Matters, can “inject a spring into the step of the hard-boiled cynic.”
I definitely threw venomously happy shapes like it was 1999. Either because of the catchy hooks and contagious verve, or perhaps it was just because of the plastic cups of cheap Sauvignon blanc mixed with orange juice I was knocking back like I was in high school. The joyfully upbeat Danielle of White Space came up and disclosed: “What the hell? Some girl was smoking pot in the toilet.” Yes, totally high school.
Backstage, I told TDCC’s guitarist Kevin that I appreciated his pony tattoo. “I like your pony.” I said, as we took a picture together.
“It’s not a pony. It’s a stallion.” Kevin replied.
Fans were screaming “Kevvviiiiiinnn~~~~~!!!!” and two teenage girls thrust their copies of TDCC’s 2010 debut album “Tourist History” into my hands. One yelled: “Can you make him sign it!!! Pleeeeez!!! I will marry you!!!!” I decided to perform a good deed that night. No, not by marrying her, stupid. I hold the sanctity of holy matrimony in the highest regard. “What are your names, dahling?” I asked. I turned away immediately upon hearing my answers, as thirty more hands with albums were thrust towards me. Can’t please them all. Gracious Kevin then signed the albums to Victoria and Coco respectively, and I returned them to elated owners.
