We stayed out far too late last night/this morning at the Tiesto show at On Broadway downtown. The whole experience was quite journalistically stimulating, so here are some observations in bulleted, got-home-at-3am style:
The club was packed, which was one part hellish, one part fun, and two parts sweaty. Speaking of sweaty, a man we named "Wet Guy" seemed to follow us around and dance/bob right in fromt of us. He was probably on something, because the second he got on the floor, he started his bob and NEVER STOPPED. We're talking four+ hours here. And the nature of his bob movement meant prolific sweaty elbow flailing. Speaking of on something, we also couldn't seem to get away from this group of young Japanese exchange students (with the tiniest digital camera ever, incidentally) who whipped out some MASSAGE OIL. At a club. While people were dancing around them. And massaged each other. Granted, it smelled pretty, but I just couldn't get past how bizarre and slightly disgusting the whole scene was. At one point, somebody from the crowd handed Tiesto a record. He just pulled it out of the sleeve, looked at the label, and put it on his little turntable thing. I'm pretty sure it was that Sarah McLachlan/Delerium song, because I was surprised to hear that, the oldest DJ trick in the book. Also, he had to make it go really fast, and thus, really high, in order for it to fit in with what he was already doing. It was pretty incredible! His latest album, "Just Be" has a little sticker on the front saying "The new artist album from the #1 DJ in the world." The world. I was skeptical, but it was by far the best electronic music performance I've ever seen, and with my husband being as he is, I seem to have seen far too many. He was also really sweet and cute with the crowd, what with the waving and smiling and playing their records business. And he remixed "Adagio for Strings" for some shoe-in Julia Points. I dressed like a techno superspy. I've never worn sunglasses inside before, and I really did feel badass. Don't worry, they were the hardly-shaded glass variety (the kind that really don't block the sun at all) so I could totally see. I promise to never make fun of Sydney Bristow's usual there's-an-international-terrorist-deal-going-on-in-this-electronic-euro-synth-pop-club outfits again. There is no greater feeling of rebellion to me than staying out until the wee hours of the morning mid-week and then not going to work until 1pm the next day. It's partly depressing that I felt so rebellious for something like that, but also partly comforting because this means I don't need alcohol or drugs for a good time. You know, since my one martini last night cost $9.50, and I wouldn't want to accidentally whip out massage oil in public or anything.
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