11 days to Coachella, and my mother’s mantra is… bring toilet paper
I love how in a way I’m becoming my mother. I say this because I had this huge conversation the other night with a friend about why Gary Numan was an unintentional genius and how his patented synth slap from Cars was like some sort of bekon call to my generation, and how I also believed that it was a pre-curser to the Law and Order chung-chung.
My friend of course seemed confused, which I dismissed as idiocy, until I realized later that I kept referring to Gary Numan as Randy Newman. This means that for the entire conversation my friend thought I was talking about the slightly bloated, raspy-voiced singer who opines that short people have no reason to live; and that in mentioning Cars he thought I was talking about the animated Disney movie. So, this is really something of a clarification, although in my defense I knew who I was talking about.
Having issued this clarification, I must say I am looking forward to seeing Gary Numan at Coachella, but I only want to hear Cars. I’m guessing there are others who feel like me, and have a feeling he’ll end with Cars so as not to create a mass early exodus.
I guess I love the idea of Gary Numan more than I love his music – since I really only know one song. For me, Gary Numan is like the embodiment of Post-Warhol 80s cool. I also love that he lent his jet to the fictional character Vince Noir (from The Mighty Boosh – an amazing series that should be top of everyone’s Netflix que) so that Vince could go to the North Pole. You don’t see Bono doing that. I also love the fact that he doesn’t wax poetic about his unique look (White face/black eyes). He’s very open about the fact that this was the unintentional result of an acne flareup before a TV performance. The makeup artist slapped about a half an inch of white makeup on him, and as Gary recalls so eloquently, “My eyes were like pissholes in the snow, so they put black on there as well.” Numan also claims his “wooden” stage presence was a result of extreme self consciousness and lack of talent. You won’t hear that kind of talk from Morrissey.
Speaking of stage fright, back in the day (which was almost always a Thursday) I had horrible stage fright, particularly if I was leading my own band. I especially hated speaking into the microphone. I hated the way the sound of my voice would be delayed, and also the way everyone would stare at me. Oh, and then there was the part where you had to thank them for coming, which was always awkward since I would invariably feel the need to apologize to them since they were missing ER. It’s pretty clear I didn’t have the ego to be a pop star, since they are not typically apologetic to their audiences… if only I’d taken my cue from Randy Gary.