(If you can't laugh at yourself, how can you laugh at anything? That sentiment is very representative of the British sense of humour... and I'm learning, of others', too.)
I tried for a photo pass for Matisyahu the other night, but after a long and drawn-out email exchange, it was left hanging and there was no photo authorisation for me... but I did have a pass for Street Urchinz, so was there at Ace of Spades, armed with cameras, happily covering the Urchinz, but not allowed to shoot the headliner.
This guy wandered up to me wearing Matisyahu passes. We chatted: he didn't have a photo pass for me. He did, however, give me a CD. I couldn't read the label in the venue, too dark for that.
Matisyahu started (after a long break, and a very-drawn-out light-and-smoke intro). I could see and hear that it was going to be a very entertaining and interesting show. However, I had camera trigger-finger. How to stay inside the venue, with cameras, with zoom, and not take pictures? No pass equals no photos. Finger itches to shoot. Not a good situation. And heck, I had to work in the morning. Really early.
So I left. Went to the truck. Put the CD in the CD player and drove home along J street and Fair Oaks.
It's an EP: "Gina and the Garage Sale", to be exact. Cracked me up. Drove home with a stupid grin.
My favourites are track 7., "Span-Hebrish (Ech Ani Olech)", and track 8, "The Sweatpants Song". What a balagan :-) Brilliant, seriously!
(Thank you Kosha Dillz!)
That's all I'm saying. You have to listen to it all yourself.