I am making a conscious effort to blog every Thursday night. (This started two Thursdays ago.) So this blog on a Saturday evening is a transgression, a breaking of the rules. But I saw a band last night, and I can't stop myself from telling you about them. The band is called Diego's Umbrella. They are the worst band I have ever seen.
Abbey and I went to the Independent in San Francisco to see a band called Vagabond Opera, out of Portland. After Vagabond Opera finished their show and pulled down their cloth banner at the back of the stage, Diego's Umbrella hoisted up their banner with the band's logo. The logo looked like a Billabong advertisement or an Abercrombie & Fitch poster. But I didn't think too much of it. Maybe it was ironic.
I had heard good things about Diego's Umbrella. A friend, who I ran into at the show, had an ex-boyfriend who is a friend of the lead singer of Diego's Umbrella. And the band is made up of guys from the East Bay, where I'm from, so that was potentially good. And they have a great name: Diego's Umbrella. I love that name. I had never heard any of their songs, but given their being on the same bill as the burlesque, raucous, melodramatic, klezmer inspired and mostly good Vagabond Opera, I had high hopes for Diego's Umbrella. I was expecting a cool, indie sound, melodic and textured. Something sweet and smart. Diego is the name of my brother's little boy. In the space between sets, I felt positive and warm feelings for Diego's Umbrella.
But the banner with the Abercrombie & Fitch logo was no ironic gesture and foreshadowed what was to come. When Diego's Umbrella did finally come out on stage, they were dressed in completely all-white tuxedos. This is not a bad or good thing, in itself. The right band could do wonderful, happy things with all-white tuxedos. The right band could make sparkling, glorious music a la Frightened Rabbit in all-white tuxedos. Needless to say (which is itself needless to say) Diego's Umbrella, was well, hmmm, the all-white tuxedos could not fix what would be a very unfortunate problem.
When the in-between-set-music stopped and the lights went down, five band members dressed in all-white tuxedos came out on stage. There was an electric fiddle player, stage left, with brown curly hair who stood over some sort of small synthesizer probably capable of creating various electrical, likely bass tones. In the center of the stage a young man stood with a white bandana wrapped around his forehead, holding an electric guitar. In front of him two drums and other percussive possibilities, the kind you play standing up. This would be, I guessed, the salsa influence. On the far right stood another man with an electric guitar. This was an orange man, with orange hair and orange beard. And in the back center of the stage the drummer, who had cut the sleeves off of his all-white tux. To his left was the bass player with a white headband. Cute.
And then Don Juan himself came valiantly on stage thrusting forth with an acoustic guitar wired electric. The lead singer took up the position just to the left of salsa/bandana guy and just to the the right of orange man. He began with a huge 80s metal strum of his guitar from far above his head to the the floor of the stage...and Diego's Umbrella broke into song. The guitar playing man with the bandana and the salsa drums immediately took on an expression that conveyed: "are you not amazed?!" with eyes wide, enamored of his own musical gifts. The lead singer then gesticulated around the stage, brushed back his hair, and acted out the role of the rock star. It seemed that this man also had a healthy sense of self.
And the music. Oh the music. The music was very bad Sublime, it was poor 311, it was left over No Doubt. And the audience loved it. The Independent was packed and the audience actually "sang-along" during a call and response portion that went like this:
Lead singer: "I take off your shirt!" (huge grin!)
Audience: "I put the shirt back on!" (frat boy high fives!)
Lead singer: "I take off your pants!" (jump around and point towards the sky!)
Audience: "I put your pants back on!" (this is great, original music!)
Lead singer: "I take off your underwear!" (face pressed close with orange guy, both leaning back and just enjoying the moment!!!)
Audience: "I put your underwear back on!" (Jesus, these guys fucking rock!)
This was the beginning of the third song, and we did not stay long enough to hear the last verse. Two and 1/3 innings and Diego's Umbrella had already given up 17 runs, the manager comes out and says, "son, you didn't pitch well. We're sending you down to the minors. No, actually, we're just gonna let you go. You can leave your uniform in your locker."
Remember, all of this is happening in all-white tuxedos. The amount of love these guys showed to each other, all while playing ripped off reggae bass lines that Black Uhuru made beautiful in the early 70's, was astonishing. You know when a band thinks it's really jamming, I mean really getting into the groove, but you are thinking, "Jesus, I have heard this before done much, much better." Well it was like that only made infinitely worse by the generated ego nexus propelling their lack of talent and originality to the limits, and making me feel shitty about being in San Francisco on that particular night and from the East Bay generally.
If you want to check out Diego's Umbrella, you can find them on myspace!
http://www.myspace.com/diegosumbrella
I'm sorry. I don't usually like to be so negative, but I have a low tolerance for huge egos coupled with bad music.
with love,
Anthony
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