The party

seems to have moved downer town. Tribeca is where to go and me, mr.J and some friends of his went to the Knitting Factory. Where we among others heard the mountaingoats, a new folk lofi dylanesque singer/songwriter.

So the place was this multi-section kind of place in several floors with various bars and music zones. The main stage had a balcony and I saw first an ambient rock band, guitar feedback through delays and stuff. Got that t-shirt but it was okay I guess. Me and mr. J went walking looking for food, wound up in little Italy. Good pizza -like italian but with that particular american taste. We got lost on the way back, went beneath some vast bridges -one was the brooklyn bridge, then came city hall; which like the library is a ridiculously small building in such a big city.

So anyway, we came back and saw the mountaingoats. I knew them only through their web-page which I'd been shown, they downloaded me some songs, recorded through the telephone and cleaned up. It had a sound for sure, it got this particular sadness from its lofiness.

The concert had good sound. And in it I heard...
Well, it's kinda hard to explain, like this; I don't play guitar, but I play anyway if you know what I mean. And when I pick up a guitar I play some random rock-riffs throughout the ages, famous clishes. And that's what I heard him do. Play a just another famous clishee after another. Music sounded so dead. Alot of bands in Oslo had been into this kind of thing, but this was a perfect rendition.

He was singing sad songs about break-ups and funny songs about teen-angst. Some of them were real angry but he never was. Leaned back and cool. I made a record like that once, angry songs, intimate material, famous riffs. So I got that t-shirt too.

Oh never mind, it doesn't really matter.

b