Three Imaginary Girls

Seattle's Indie-Pop Press – Music Reviews, Film Reviews, and Big Fun

LIZ: What a perfect way to start off the holiday weekend. A night in the Crocodile surrounded by locals and orphans (and drinks). And a full night of entertainment whose line-up included two local bands I've been itching to see for sometime: The Lashes and Visqueen.

DANA: Ah, the night before Thanksgiving. I'm back in the USA… and it's my first show in ages…and everyone speaks English. Weird. I've never seen The Lashes (but have heard Liz and others gush about them, and frontman Ben Clark gave me dead baby shoes at the Cha Cha once — long story).

LIZ: And me, I already know and love The Lashes. Frontman Ben IS the Seattle Jarvis Cocker (of Pulp, and this is huge compliment). Their music is a well studied blend of Beatles pop and the Northwest Passage exhibit at the EMP.

DANA: Ben and Randy (drummer superstar, as his "side project" is TIG favorite Hypatia Lake. Such a talented one!) are damn fun to talk to, so even if they are only half as entertaining on stage as they are off, we'll be in fine shape (um, did I mention those dead baby shoes?).

LIZ: The show began with Ben on crutches. He obviously hadn't practiced his stage entrance on them. His hobbling was cute, but certainly wouldn't have been effective in getting the deadline on his term paper extended. Not that I've ever tried that…

DANA: They were adorable, with songs as catchy and fun and lovable as I would expect from a guy who once proclaimed a pop song should be, "Short, sweet, and dumb enough for the masses.". Songs of birthdays, cute girls… and one sychophantically irresitably catchy little number about a certain music writer in this town (NOT an imaginary one either…) I can not fully endorse this band until I hear a song written for someone imaginary! {okay, I'm lying. I loved them.}

LIZ: Yeah, and they didn't let the fact that some Lashes Parental Units were in da house hamper their superstar attitudes. By the end of the set, I was smiley from Seattle pop and… hungry for some wasabi. So we listened to exactly three songs from the next band in the line-up and then the committee seconded my motion that wasabi was in order.

DANA: We had two more bands until Visqueen, so we decided the late-night happy hour pre-Thanksgiving Wasabi Bistro rolls were totally in order. With the burn of hot green Asian mustard in our mouths and bellies, we returned to the Croc refreshed and ready for some hot hot Visqueen action.

LIZ: Did you just say hot hot Visqueen action?


DANA: Yes, but you said it first… when we were at Wasabi Bistro.


LIZ: Right. Hot hot Visqueen was ours.

Finally, I'll get to hear that song "Sailor" live! Live their sound was more pronounced… a mix of thinking gal's Josie and the Pussycats and the best moments spent riffling through my older sister's record collection.

DANA: Just like last time I saw them, they were fantastic. Only this time, they have a 7" single and you can buy it!. And there's other really cool shit too! Want a Visqueen lunchbox? You can have it! Visqueen thong? You can have one by Christmas.

Phew, shopping distraction. Sorry. Back at the show, Kim Warnick broke one of her bass strings, and they broke into the National Lampoon's Holiday song. That was funny.

LIZ: Bass strings are a pain to change, so the time between songs while they were waiting out their sans bass time, front woman Rachel Flotard filled the empty air with witty family dinner stories…

DANA: Can't we all relate to that on Thanksgiving Eve? I leaned over share in the amusement with Liz over the roar of the crowd, as I have countless times before, when suddenly — BLAM — she was clunked in the head. What WAS that?

LIZ: I think it was the funnist moment of the night. Seriously. Here igDana just said something incredibly pithy when, as an exclamation on the statement, something bounces off my head. I immediately started laughing over the beauty of the moment and searched for clarification on what exactly the item was that hit me. One person next to me said it was a potato, but it felt like a wiffle ball.

Turns out, it was a somewhat petrified dinner roll, lobbed into the crowd by Visqueen drummer Ben Hooker! I was a bit confused because, well, dinner rolls are rarely airborne in the Crocodile. But once I confirmed I had nearly been rendered unconscious by a stale baked good, it was even funnier.

After the show I stopped to say 'hi' to merch-man Pete manning the table. He apologized profusely for the "Dinner Roll Incident" (DRI) and had sweety Visqueen drummer Ben come over to apologize profusely. I loved his line "I knew as soon as it left my hand — this is a bad idea…"

DANA: … and if you want to relive the hilarity, we can listen to their recent KEXP live session and I can throw muffins at you.


LIZ: … yes, that would be fun. But, dude, it was a dinner roll.