I went to see Katy Perry last night, even though I still have a twitch from The Experiment. It was a show and she tried real hard to keep us entertained, but 98.3% of the people could have given a rat's ass about any song that wasn't "I Kissed A Girl" or "Hot N Cold." She had a giant inflatable cat with glowing eyes that was pretty cool and the inflatable fruits and berries were the sort of show biz touch that you don't often see in modern music. The light show was good and the band was thoroughly competent, but at the end of the day K.P. only has two good songs. But I did get to stand next Desmond Child after the show and bask in his well-manicured facial hair and sensibly stylish glasses! He smells like platinum records! It was life changing, really.
After the jump, Ashley Spurgeon and I break down the single most important performance in the history of humanity.
Baloney: How's yer real job treating you this morning?
The Spurge: I am eating Fritos and coffee for breakfast.
B: Dude, I was looking for cellphone videos from last night's show and I totally found footage of The Privates recording at Battletapes. Now I'm totally shocked that Dave didn't go.
S: Privates Dave is a huge KP fan and it's public knowledge. Did you write down any of my brilliant asides from last night?
B: I did write them down, but the only thing that's legible is "the hokey fucking pokey" in big letters. I think the best parts of her show were when she played other peoples records. Well, that and the inflatable substi-cocks.
S: Other people's songs are great. My favorite part was when she came out to "Killer Queen" and then covered "Don't Stop Me Now" because it is obvious she's only just learned about Queen. That said, she has a really nice haircut.
B: That hair cut was paid for with the blood of innocents. Who do you think were in scarcer supply last night, actual honest-to-god lady lovin' lesbians or straight dudes that were actually there of their own volition?
S: Oh, real lesbians were in shorter supply for sure. I think I lost my hairclip (gay) from the invite to the Lipstick Lounge after-party. The fratties I saw filtering in throughout the night were absolutely stoked. Little know fact: Asian college girls fucking love Katie Perry. They were everywhere.
B: Oh ya, there were totally those girls "interpretive moshing" behind us during "I Kissed A Girl". I'm a bit disappointed that the Cannery did burst into a orgy of saphic love during that song, proving once again that Nashville doesn't really know how to party.
S: I wish the guy that I thought was Andrew WK actually had been Andrew WK. Then we would have partied for real.
B: The wife just asked if "Hot N Cold" was about menopause! Ha! Makes sense though...
S: We learned what "Hot N Cold" was about last night, remember? It has to do with roller skating, the hokey pokey and a boy called Elijah. KP was pulling out some VH1 legends style stories. I liked it when you asked if the opening band was a band.
B: How was I supposed to know? They sounded like someone was listening to Mix 92.9 through a bumpin system. I didn't think people actually made that kinda music for real and, like, got paid to play it for other people. I figured that music was created by a particularly tacky computer algorithim.
S: I still maintain that "Hot N Cold" is a great song. Everything else, not so much. And it doesn't take a lot for me to enjoy pop music. I freaked the fuck out over Hanson last week. Hannah Montana is better than Katy Perry. And I am simply jealous of them both. You should have bought your wife a $60 hoodie.
B: I should have bought the KP seamless, boy-short panties, so everytime I slap my wife's ass it's like pimp-handing KP. And I'm totally bummed the she stole the armpit sniffing routine from SNL. For a second there, I was in complete awe of her genius.
S: Katy Perry will be as relevant as a Mary Katherine Gallagher sketch in T minus 2 years. But I still remember who OMC is, so you never know.
S: "How Bizarre!" Hit of, I believe, 1997. It was short for Otari Millionaire's Club but the dude was poor, so fake out. I think he was Samoan. Pop culture fail, Bawston Sean. Pop culture fail.
B: Pop culture fail. Hmmm. Ya that pretty much covers it. I'm going to edit all this shizzle, crank out an intro and blog the fuck out of this mother fucker. I gotta do my taxes....
S: I still want a giant inflatable strawberry. It symbolizes obviousness. Have fun with the blog and taxes.