As you might have read here on PasteMagazine.com, we are hosting a secret show in NYC on 2/22/07 as part of our ongoing “Paste Presents” concert series. The first of these shows at the Knitting Factory featured surprise performances from Beck, HEM, Hymns, and ?uestlove (who served as house DJ). Jay Sweet and I have been planning the upcoming show and were interested to read a thread about the show over at BrooklynVegan.com (recently named “Blog of the Year” at the PLUG Awards). Within the thread, BrooklynVegan and its readers were trying to guess the show’s line-up. I read it before going to bed last night and ended up having a dream about it. Goes something like this…
I was in NYC for business calls and getting ready for the party. For some reason, I took a bus over to a pier on the West Side. When I got off the bus my cellphone rang so I took the call. It said “PRIVATE/UNKNOWN” on the caller ID. Shady… I answered anyway and was greeted by a woman claiming to be a reporter for BrooklynVegan.
“You’re a reporter for a blog?” I asked. “I didn’t know they had those. What’s your name then?”
“I can’t tell you that,” she said, “but I can tell you that I’ve figured out who is playing your party.”
“Really? Who do you think it is?” I asked.
“We know you’re having a solo show from one of the Cold War Kids. And everyone in Brooklyn has seen them before… so we’re not coming.”
This made no sense to me. “Why would we have only one Cold War Kid? And we already told you that two of the artists performing at the show made Paste‘s 100 Greatest Living Songwriters list.”
The reporter was sneaky and wanted answers so she used a tactic that was sure to work—silence.
“Hello? Are you still there??” I asked. The reporter let me know she was still on the phone, but said nothing else. Like a bumbling idiot, I started talking to fill the silence…
“Look, it’s not a Cold War Kid. And you should plan on coming because it’s going to be a great show.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry I can’t tell you the line-up, but it will be an awesome night—you’ll have to take my word for it.”
Silence.
Then I cracked. “Fine… if I tell you the truth, will you promise not to tell anyone else?”
“Alright...” she said. I could tell that she was smiling on the other end of the phone. Oh no!, I thought, I’ve fallen into her trap!
That’s when I woke up. Seems that subconciously I feel guilty about keeping secrets. But you gotta do what you gotta do.
The party is invite-only, but our readers can enter for a chance to win a pair of tickets to the real show. Just don’t expect me to tell you who is playing… fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me…
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