Last night I saw someone's bedroom act

So, I went out for the first time since we've been in Melbourne and had a rather pleasant time. Ostensibly we'd gone to see Batrider, the band of a girlfriend of a friend of Andy's so that Andy could stalk his friend, get his phone number and hopefully harass him into letting us sleep on his couch (that part failed miserably...) The first act of the evening was this small, skinny white boy who sang along to his iPod. It was as though he'd catalogued every single song that he'd ever made up, made backing tracks and created an interpretive dance for each one. He really FELT the music... you could see him feeling it. His hair was kind of floppy. It was a little like watching a funky noodle. As with all performance art, at the beginning of this fit I felt incredibly uncomfortable - clearly this whole thing was a massive joke, but I felt kind of rude laughing. Like, it was an in-joke, but if I laughed it would be AT the guy, rather than WITH him. Although he would be laughing too. But differently. Batrider was dirge.* I liked it (sorry Bex). And, if the 90s are the new 80s, dirge is the way of the future. I'm considering investing in some flannelette shirts now. And some tee-shirts with Kurt Cobain on the front of them. And some Doc Martin boots (actually, I'm totally serious about the boots. I always wanted 10-ups). Also: Kate and Kena, I have made contact with Vee and am having a coffee with her today. Hooray for having friends! It's fun. *Andy gave me this html and I've just looked at the site. It's a little like reading my adolescent diaries. Hm.