Gogol Bordello, gypsy punk magical sex symbols. What a treat!
Accidentally helping a crack addict pawn presumably stolen items. What not a treat! But, in my defense, what am I supposed to do when a crackhead approaches me with a big fucking axe? I’ve seen horror movies. I know what happens! In fact, I think you should be thanking me for helping de-arm a local crackhead.
But enough about the Taylor Swift show that was happening down the street. What the hell is a Puzzled Panther?
Future fucking superstars, that’s who. I guarantee you that in 6-8 months, which are two random numbers I pulled out of my ass, you’re going to be seeing these two girls and one dude on the drumset all over the place. They’re like… like Gogol Bordello, but not Gypsy, and also from New York.
But FYSM, be more descriptive! Ok. Fuck you. How’s that for descriptive?
Fine, you’re right. Imagine 2 Eugene Hütz’s but without the mustache and with boobs. And one drummer. Descriptive enough?
But no one was here to see those future rockstars this time. People were there for Gogol Bordello, and let me tell you why with two words: gypsy punk.
Gypsy punk is, like, the best possible combination for dance music that never gets old. Every fucking song was just a fucking dance party. And not just in the good seats of the Ogden. There were random one, two, three person gypsy circles all over the god dammed place. I wouldn’t be surprised if I went to the bathroom and found a bunch of dudes peeing in circles while they made their own gypsy circle.
And I’m not just saying that because that’s what I did when I got home.
The thing about Gogol Bordello is that you never want to leave. Like, you’ll find a moment where you think things are settling down, the show is coming to a close, maybe it’s time to go, let’s get the BAM! DANCE DANCE DANCE! And then you do dance. And scream randomly if you’re the guy behind me. And stumble around if you’re the guy who was drunk before the show even began. And wish that you were part of the band so you can live this every night if you’re me.
Gogol Bordello is a memory to be made, that’s why you go. Slava Ukraini and fuck fascists!
And I forgive you guys for almost nailing me in the head with your mic stand. I was hoping my last head injury was my… last. So far, so good.
