The Rules According To Patrick

Yesterday marked the release of Ratatat’s newest album, LP3. I figured the best way to commemorate the occassion (besides buying the CD instead of downloading it for free) would be post a running diary from the show I went to last year. It’s outdated (both Mike and Evan are now black midgets who may or may not be lesibans – what a difference a year makes) but I’m still entertained by it.

When I was in the sixth grade I read all 20 books on the DCF list. Up till that point, I had read exactly one book that wasn’t assigned to me. What spurred this shift from literary slacker to book worm extraordinaire? Prizes. By reading all twenty books on the DCF list (which I think stood for Dorothy Canfield Fisher) I was guaranteed a place at the luncheon event with a famous author. That year, it was the guy who wrote Maniac Magee. It was my favorite.

However, about two weeks before the event, I discovered it conflicted with my school’s talent show. I was torn between reaping the reward for my studious efforts while rubbing elbows with the guy who made untying knots sound exciting or entertaining my peers with a character named Futso who basically walked around, acting like a dimwit.

I chose Futso because I knew being around accomplished people wasn’t going to make me as happy as BEING the accomplished person.

Now fast forward to last night. Sure, Futso didn’t hit it big like I thought he would, but I’ve learned to enjoy the moments where my friends and family are doing something great…especially when I can go along for the ride.

Last night Ratatat had its premiere show for their upcoming tour. I’d seen them play more than a handful of times before, but this time, things were different. Their new album had been released and their name was popping up all over cultural indicators like the homepage of iTunes, The New Yorker and the homepage of the most trafficked site in the world, myspace. Not only was there a general excitement growing around the name Ratatat, but my personal relationship to the band had also grown over the past year. Mike, one of the two full-time members, had moved to the apartment above me with his girlfriend, Andrea. Not only did their move create a small sense of community in my dingy apartment, but it ensured that nights when nothing was going on were filled with something (mostly Mike striking me out with high fastballs in this video baseball game).

Jake, my older brother, was the other reason that Ratatat had become more personal to me. He joined their upcoming tour as their keyboardist and was aiming to bring a more band-like quality to their live shows.

The night had finally come…the tour about to embark. I didn’t want the night to just be another night so I decided to keep a running diary.

5:00 p.m.
Work’s done. I grab my stuff, shove my headphones into my ears and head for the elevator. I run into a girl I work with who asks me if I’m up to anything tonight. I tell her my evening plans. I ask her what she’s doing tonight and she says “I don’t know. I hope there is something good on TV tonight.”

5:32 p.m. Get off the subway and start walking home. The entire subway ride I was thinking about buying cashmere. While at work, I overheard a girl tell her friends about receiving a cashmere sweater from her boyfriend to celebrate their 6 month anniversary. How sweet, I thought. Currently, I could buy a girl one used cashmere sock. Even though I’m not the type of person who thinks you show love, devotion and affection through money, I’m competitive. I also want to know I could buy a girl something luxurious, like cashmere, but won’t because I have less materialistic values.

5:33 p.m.
I decide I’m going to start saving every penny I can. I turn around and walk back to the grocery store and buy a can of black beans for $.80. “Genius,” I thought…”I’m going to be buying a one bedroom on Park Ave. by Christmas!”

5:50 p.m.
After eating a bowl full of beans and doing some rough calculations I discover that I would have to eat beans for roughly 87 years before I would be able to buy an apartment on Park Ave.

6:14 p.m.
I get a few phone calls and text messages from people asking if I can get them into the show. Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m lucky to be going myself. The show’s been sold out for over a month and there are at least 80 people who “expect” to get on the 30 person guest list.

7:04
Nap time. It’s going to be a late night and sleeping before is not only the best way to keep myself from dragging down, but it’s the best way to keep myself from drinking before hand.

8:23
Wake up to the sound of Nick and Steve playing the song they just wrote. It sounds like Strawberry fields on Methadone. They love it.

8:48
Time to get dressed. I want to look good, but not like I’m trying to look good…but I am trying…why wouldn’t I try? Are there people out there who really don’t try? Aren’t those people obviously not trying? Why is effort such a bad thing? It’s not a bad thing in sports. There’s at least one kid on every high school team who can’t do anything except try really hard? In the end I go with jeans, shirt and ripped up sports coat (more on that in a bit).

9:12
Nick, Steve and I are outside our apartment waiting for our car to pick us up. We have to move away from the pile of garbage on the curb because something smells dead. I tell the story about the time I almost tripped over a garbage bag with a sign on it that said “dead dog”. This leads to a discussion about how we would dispose of a dead dog’s body.

9:21
Cab comes and we’re heading over the Williamsburg bridge. Steve suggests that tonight would have been a great event for me to bring a date to since it would prove I’m not your average Joe-Six-Pack. Steve then changes the saying to Joe-Game-Cube.

9:23
I point out the Empire State Building is lighted with tan light. It’s a little too San Diego for me.

9:27
Get to the Bowery Ballroom and step into the gauntlet of security. Some clubs in cities like New York and LA go way over the top on security. You’ve got one guy to check your ID, another guy to give you your wrist band, another guy to separate you into ticket holder vs. non-ticket holder, another person to check your ID for the guest list and another person to issue your all access sticker. By the time you’re thru you feel like a criminal who is in danger of being tackled if you even think about dancing.

9:42
Get to the backstage area. It’s pretty calm so I grab a beer and take a seat on the leather couch. I survey the room. It’s filled with models, musicians…and a business analyst (me).

9:47
Mike sits down next to me and comments on my jacket. He says “did you just cut the shit out of that sports coat? It’s kinda cool.” I tell him that it was a double breasted jacket that fit well, but was too cheap to wear formally and too formal to wear casually. So…snip snip went the coat. Taking a line out of “Can’t Buy Me Love” Mike says (in a pee wee herman voice) “you took that coat from geek…to totally sheik.”

10:14
I guess Ill have another beer since I’m currently the third wheel in a conversation with Nick and Mike’s mother about a tennis match they had.

10:23
One more beer. I have to work in the morning.

10:27
Switch to whiskey.

10:33
Announce, “I’m having a really good time” to everyone in the backstage area. There’s an awkward pause as people can’t tell if I’m complaining or if I’m being honest.

10:43
Head down to the main floor to find a place to squeeze in. Steve and I find a place near the stage door. We run into Christian (more on him later)

10:47
Lights are lowered, music is turned up and people start cheering for the pulsating graphic on the screen that says Ratatat.

10:53
The cheering has stopped. People are getting anxious.

10:55
The DVD player goes into rest mode and the screen saver comes on. This gets a HUGE reaction from the audience.

10:57
The guys come out on stage. My brother, Jake, walks across the stage with a beer in one hand and a giant foam hand on the other (the ones you see at sporting events). He’s holding it over his head and is taunting the crowd.

11:21
The set’s going well and like any typical New York audience…no one is moving. I’m not excluded from this criticism as I spend most of my time looking stoic.

11:28
Mike points to some kid in the front row and gives him the “hey! Its you! face”.

11:31
After the song, Mike realizes the guy in the front row isn’t who he thought he was and apologizes by saying “I thought you were someone I knew…but you’re not”. Crushed.

11:37
I’ve noticed someone in the area I’m standing in is gassy. Every five minutes or so I’m taken out of the moment by an odd smell. To whom it may concern. Yes, you are in a crowd and no one knows it’s you, but you’re a smelly coward who has no regard for others. Buck up!

11:42
The premiere of the Somebody video. A few years ago, Christian, who is standing next to me at the show (could he be the gassy one??), started calling things and people Somebody. If a hat looked stupid, Somebody. If you drove a nice car, Somebody. Basically anything that Christian didn’t approve of was labeled Somebody. Well, it caught on and there isn’t anyone who knows Christian and doesn’t know Somebody. In-between one of the songs the video he made comes on the big screen. Basically, it’s him saying Somebody in about 20 different ways. All of us are cracking up, but everyone else who is seeing Christian for the first time on this screen is confused. This is when I realize that I’m surrounded by 480 strangers. One of which, is gassy.

11:51
The band comes out for their encore and play 17 Years. It’s their equivalent of Smells Like Teen Spirit. I’m sure Ratatat hates fans who only get excited to hear that song, but it’s such a good song that it will always be in the set list. E*Vax (the other full time member of Ratatat who does the beats, the bass, and all the video work that is timed perfectly with the music) puts on a foam finger and does the robot across the stage. This is the most animated I’ve ever seen him and I can only assume that he’s having a ton of fun.

12:14
Show is over and it’s time to get backstage (if for no other reason then to use the bathroom). Now the backstage is filled with people (most of which I don’t know) and people start asking “where’s the after party”. Because of my decision to nap earlier, I feel capable of continuing the night. However, because of my decision to nap earlier (and not drink before going out) I have enough sense to know where this night is heading and get ready to hop on the subway back to Brooklyn.

12:23
Find Jake packing up some gear. He tries to give me a foam finger (which say Ratatat on them, by the way) but I tell him that I’m taking the subway and that a giant orange finger might attract unwanted attention. I give him a hug and head off for the underground.

1:01
My thrifty route home is a no go because the MTA has decided to have the L train run for thirty minutes each day. I’m cabbing it home and that means either the apartment on Park Avenue will have to wait an additional 41 years or the people I was with tonight better hit it big and keep me on their shoulder.