Dear Brody Dalle,
On Friday night I attended your gig in Vancouver. Arriving amongst the myriad of torn tights, studded leather jackets and liberty spikes – I knew I was in the right place. The venue was the appropriate combination of scuzzy and small. The evening was perfectly poised for a moment of beautiful, sweaty carnage.
But it, mostly, did not happen. The crowd were a becalmed sea amid the thunderous set of new Diploid Love songs, Distillers’ classics and – a personal favourite – Spinnerette smash Ghetto Love. I have never performed on stage, but I have enjoyed my fair share of live music; loud or intimate, tense or jovial, angry or angering. Enough, at least, to know how crucial a crowd can be to the experience. I am confident this will not have passed unnoticed, and it is for this I would like to express my sincerest apologies.
While I still had a fantastic evening, due entirely to you and your band, I can only begin to express how frustrated I was with the lack of vigour and energy brought by the majority of the attendees. You asked for a pit, the least we could do as a way of giving thanks for playing here. Yet all that was mustered was some polite bumping around. You asked for us to dance with you, but a saddening number did not. Even writing that jolts an anger that I struggle to shake.
I would very much like you to know that not all in the crowd were like this. I know I, and the people I was with, adored dancing with you, and wish you could return to Vancouver every year. You are a truly inspiring person, and your music fucking rocked.
Thank you for coming to Vancouver, I hope you will return some time soon, and sorry again for the people who wouldn’t dance. They must be insane.
PS. The new album is bloody fantastic.
Brody’s new album Diploid is out NOW: