OutdoorType

The thing about the theremin is, it is way less cool in person.

Or maybe it’s just experimental theremin that is less cool than expected.  Or perhaps it was as cool as expected, but I missed it because Echolalia/Amber was on the floor for most of her performance and it’s kind of hard to see what’s going on from the back of the room (even a small room like the Velvet Lounge) when the artist is playing from the floor (she needs those big overhead mirrors like you might see on a cooking show).

According to her MySpace page Echolalia’s music sounds like:

Basically whatever pops into my head at the time. Sometimes quiet, sometimes noisy, sometimes spooky, sometimes funny, sometimes sad or other times a mix of everything.

I can attest that this is true.  Apparently tonight she was thinking about sneezing because little voices sneezing seemed to be a leit motif in her piece.  A piece that lasted for an interminable amount of time.  A piece that caused members of the audience to switch on their cell phones to check the time so often that it was as if the last few fireflies of summer had found their way into the room.

And then it was over.  Finally it was done. And while I smiled knowingly (because I really do like the uncomfortable moments created by artists who take a hook and drive it into the ground for the shear pleasure of driving something into the ground), what I really wanted to hear was something to sooth my inner bourgeoisie suburban soul.   I wanted Act Three of This American Life’s episode 223: Classifieds.  I wanted to hear the cover of Sir Elton John’s “Rocketman” punctuated by Lev Sergeivich Termen’s famed instrument.  Instead I got ah-choo!