föstudagur, ágúst 19, 2005

avant garde in the 101

Crazy scene downstairs. An architect (a blue-rimmed-eyeglasses, 5-o'clock-shadow, I'll-never-be-that-cool kind of architect) bought the place a few months back and is in the midst of renovating it. In its unfinished state he threw a party tonight.

I just watched one guy play screeching guitar loops while another dropped food coloring in a fishbowl whose contents were being projected on the wall via the avant garde method of overhead projection.

Before that it was covers of US gangsta rap by the owner's son and his droogs. Now there is a band setting up. All in the midst of rough-hewn concrete and hanging wires. And a door turned on its side, full of wine and beer and requisite Icelandic smoked salmon. And a veritable who's-who of big locals on the Scene. Nothing can really compare with watching 50-year-old designer-clad Icelandic ladies bob their heads along with lyrics like "motherfuck the 5-0". I'm heading back down...


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