i'm glad i went, but...

Last night was the last ever (or so they say) live performance by The Bonapartes. Going into it I thought maybe it was just a publicity stunt. I mean, nothing like finally making it to the stage of headlining the Black Cat and then you implode, right? But alas, I think it's no joke. Yet they fail to give a reason. Come on, fellas, even a bullshit reason is better than none at all. And they don't appear to want to kill each other since there was plenty of goofing off together off-stage. I should have just fucking asked.

The set was pretty typical (and my frame of reference is from last summer). But it definitely lacked an umpfph. They had a huge stage to spread out, get comfortable, and rock, and occasionally they did. But most of the performance felt pretty obligatory rather than celebratory. There was lots of chatter from the audience (I actually heard people behind me totally trash them...here I'm just giving tough love) and it thinned out in the middle of the set (really not a good thing, especially for a headliner!). Though the thinning out gave me better views each time, and for that, this shortie can't complain. Something I don't quite get is that they obviously cared a lot about this performance (and they should, it represents quite an accomplishment) not just because they promoted it like crazy on MySpace, but because they had it video recorded. (To do what with, though?)

It was worth it to hear "Faces" again, their Cure-inspired tune. The band seemed to regain some zest at the very end with their second-to-last song--a cover of "Melt With You," which precipitated what Allie described as "the girlfriend dance" on stage. It was unexpected, because I'm quite sure I read somewhere where they pretty emphatically declared they don't do covers. It was not an ironic choice, however, and it was pretty spot on. They closed, as always, with an awesome song that I haven't the clue of the title so I have dubbed it "'I Feel It' or 'This Ship is Out of Control' But I Guess We'll Never Know."

I do have some non-Bonapartian observations about the whole experience. One, I'm really spoiled living in the hot-hot-hot music district in smoke-free Los Angeles. Oh my god, I don't think I ever want to go to a concert where you can fucking smoke again. Two, the men are much more attractive in L.A. This is no joke. Three, the get-ups of a large part of the audience made me laugh. It was embarrassing really. Anna can tell you I can't keep my opinion to myself of the hipsters in L.A. who spend way too much time looking just "so" (dirty, trendy, 70s, 80s, oblivious, whatever), but here there's a handful of that plus people who simply don't have a clue about themselves. I also saw a few too many trucker hats. Though I have to say it was refreshing to only see two pairs of flipflops. And four, the neighborhood has drastically changed in less than a year. To see the shear amounts of non-black people shuffling through the streets of the 14th & U Streets corridor in the ten-o'clock and one-o'clock hours was almost unbelievable. I mean, there were frat types there. God help us.

So there you go. Adieu, Bonapartes. Any regrets? Just a few... like not grabbing a certain ass...