Alice Glass and her broken ankle.

Alice Glass and her broken ankle taking swigs form the Whisky bottle on stage, the chick is my kind of half-fucked crazed artist. You don’t have to be a rockstar to have that weird attitude, to be able to do the hard core version of the being-an-artist shit we all have seen so many times made soft and puny. Nothing about Glassy is puny, she project that fun-dog, animal-on-stage personality and what else can you expect. She is an animal and please do bite me, tear out my flesh and stare into my eyes with a blank, Whisky-fueled gaze as you swallow me whole. And no, I am not talking in a creepy sex oriented metaphor here, or a wannabe-cannibal freak. It’s just that what we see through the cellophane of fame is a barely human thing hitting the bells on the stage with an almighty personality fit for a real Iron Man, paranoid and blind, but as dangerous as a hungry shark.

Or it might be that the crystal castle Alice Glass is projected through creates an optical illusion. But that really doesn’t matter, what we see on the stage is a performance. To make that image stick, and not seem fake, it always helps if it resembles at least some of the sources personality. If Pete Doherty was a swell fella living as a 9 to 5 family guy who’s rotting away in an office every day, his drug fueled appearance would seem more like a come-on then a lunatic. Yeah-yeah, I know I’ve used the Pete Doherty reference before, and I could have used Amy Winehouse as well, it’s just that I prefer Pete.

All this is of course based on a single concert observation, what is “googleable” and my objective views. It’s not based on interviews, conversations or real shit of any kind. It might just be a dreamlike version influenced by fake facts swirling around in the vortex of the internet. Sometimes the legend works better than the actual truth. Not everybody is as fun as Keith Richards, you know. Not everybody has a vault of madness and crazy stories, but some crazy bastard on the way has potential to build a fun-closet of anecdotes for the tea-party, stuff for entertainment by the bar, or more likely over a mirror used for chopping, whatever your choice is. I used to prefer the mirrors but I guess my time at the fun-house is over. Now all I can do is put on a Mad Hatter approach and fool around.

I had a mission when I first started writing this empty nonsense of a post. Landing on jibberish was like not the intention, but I enjoy getting sidetracked into lunacy on most occasions. What I did wanted to go into was Crystal Castles and that little love affair I’ve had with their music lately. First of all the debut album, but Baptism is a regular tune on my playlist as well. I actually used to play the Commodore 64 game Crystal Castles as a kid, so listening to the songs on the first album is something of a flashback. Even though they are electronic, experimental and noisy, CC fit into the rock genre as well; this kind of bands are at times more rock that rock bands tend to be. The anti-establishment, the anti-star thing and the “Fuck it”- attitude is a vanishing element in rock music. Grunge had some of that pure punk feeling of shaking up the establishment, but behind the walls, most of the “Fuck-it”s are more an image then a guideline.

Sometimes, just on the rare occasions of melting particles and coincidental mixing; those little anarchy kids are spawned in utter perfection.