Hurricane Sandy has been tearing New York to shreds; it’s been a real tragedy over the last couple of days with a number of lives lost up and down the US East Coast as trees fall, power lines zap & basements flood. An even larger tragedy has been the multitude of Facebook status updates whereby people insist on giving their love to their ‘peeps’ in the U.S., because they travelled there/have a friend there/watch a lot of U.S. television and feel that they have an affinity etc. Please cease and desist, you pandering cunts. It’s like the whole Movember business currently engulfing my news feed; sure the sentiment has an element of nobility, but you’re really just hijacking it with your own self-interest at front-of-mind.

I enjoyed the fuck out of watching The Black Keys slay the Sidney Myer Music Bowl last night; they played as a duo for a large component of the night and only brought the full band in for their recent hits. Dan Auerbach’s guitar sounded more hellish than ever, like he was playing it underwater in a snowstorm. Epic!

One thing I didn’t understand, however, was every second person’s insistence on holding their phone aloft for the entirety of the evening to capture the band on stage via video and a gazillion photos instead of actually watching them play. From where we were standing (quite a fair way back on the lawn) it wasn’t as if there was a great deal to see in any case. I just don’t understand the logic of being so focussed on filming the night on your smart phone that you forget to actually enjoy the evening in the first place. I took one photo all night. That was enough. I don’t need to lie in bed and play the whole gig back to remind myself of whether it was any good or not. iPhones are to 2012 what candles are to 70s Elton John ballads about attractive, dead blonde women. Half of the venue was lit up by the insidious glow of thousands of AMOLED screens. Instagram must’ve been going into fucking meltdown mode.

Also, I know that the quality of the cameras & microphones on smart phones has increased significantly in recent years, but the footage you capture from being one of these douches isn’t exactly good enough quality to do anything with, further cementing the act of filming live music gigs as a monumental waste of fucking time.

Also, to those people who give running updates on gigs they’re at via Twitter, please find the nearest oven and gas yourself in it, you petulant fucktards.

/end communication