Milano...

…was just as “grey” as many people described it to be; that’s really the perfect word for it. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, I don’t think. To me, there was a certain…busy-ness to the people of the city that complimented its drab architecture and energy that created an ambiance that was certainly different from the rest of Italy. Whether or not that different was a positive one remains to be seen, and I don’t feel proper making that judgment based off of less than twenty four hours here. Still, there’s something to be said about the contrast of Dolce and Gabanna underwear models (ed: they have to make you pay their prices somehow, eh?) with the worst of 80’s mid-rise stylings over a cloudy backdrop with well-dressed, miserable looking people. Think the Upper West Side meets West Berlin meets the nicer parts of Detroit. Or something.



The show itself was interesting in that it seemed to be a foil of sorts to the Florence show, but far less satisfying, by which I mean that the Florence show started out quite iffy and then proceeded to kick everyone’s ass, and this one kicked ass (see “Teenage Hustling”) from the beginning and then started to sputter (“Cornflake Girl” “God” “Siren” and “Liquid Diamonds” again?) before she even began the solo songs. I’m trying not to be like whateverhernameis, you know, a setlist snob. I can tolerate repetition. It’s just that all but two of the “Tori” band songs were repeats of the previous two nights, and that’s a bit frustrating, especially when she soundchecked “Marys of the Sea.”



I didn’t bother rushing (not that I’m honestly doing that lately anyway), and I actually sat in my seat behind a thousand (or more) standing people during “Jupiter.” Granted, it was probably one of the better version of the song I’ve ever heard, but my tired ass sho the fuck ain’t gonna stand up for a song she played two nights ago. Sorry.

Today I’m traveling via the Tay-Jay-Vay to France and by the time anyone reads this (if they do), I’ll be sitting in my hotel room, which is somewhere in Paris. If you are reading this, then you will know I was able to successfully ascertain a location for said hotel, and if you’re not reading this then, um, I don’t really know. I died?

No, the vegetables of the world are not so lucky. Anyway, I’ll write more during the trip probably and publish it a day later so that it doesn’t look like I’m a loser who takes eight hour train trips by himself with only a laptop to keep him company.

Oh, wait!