Last night I got to see Eef Barzelay perform live down at the Spaceland, in Silverlake, LA.
It's not often that you get to see a performer who actually sounds and entertains better in person than they do pre-recorded, but honestly, Eef is exactly that. The deft command of both his gifted back-up artists and over his audience is really rather extraordinary.
There's a strangely affecting balance he hits within his performance, one that mixes troubling self-reflection with that of the playful rock-and-roll persona. The frequent out-bursts of skilled strumming and fingerpicking, accompanied by high-kick jumps and melodic vibrato singing, somehow seem truly necessary in delivering his desired tone. He sounds like a hopeful romantic, even when he's singing about the bleaching of various body-parts, all the while providing an original out-look on the society he finds on the brink of the apocalypse.
It's amazing stuff.
But just before the performance I saw something just as amazing, if not incredibly impractical.
A Phalanstery Module.
It was designed by comic-book artist Jimenez Lai mainly to demonstrate living on all dimensions in a zero-gravity environment by having architecture on all surfaces and constantly rotating.
Beth and I saw it while wandering about before the performance.
And I basically discovered I want to live inside of it.
But I don't want to live inside of a zero-gravity environment. I just want to live in a small apartment that constantly rotates extremely slowly.
I want to wake up each morning confused and on the floor, but at least have a separate, equally strange explanation, and then get into the habbit of constantly picking up fallen vases, paintings, furniture, and basically everything not nailed down.