he who sweetly fills the sandwich is alex kapranos of franz ferdinand. the picture dates back to july 3rd, same day as the klaxons anecdote. the man was all too effectively concealing his identity with those sunglasses, checking out ab4, one of the veteran prides and joys of our indie rock scene. why am i behind the camera and not in front of it? well. you see. i'm not a fan. there are enough real fans queuing to pounce on him and i've done enough rockstar bootlicking in my day to last me a lifetime of jaded concert-going.
who knew a short three hours later, struck by the inescapable virus of wow-that-band-i-saw-on-mtv-is-really-on-that-stage-and-boy-is-the-frontman-hot, i'd make it my #1 life goal to produce industrial amounts of drool and scream myself deaf? yes, i fell hard and fast into franz ferdinand fandom. or rather: frantically, obliviously and irresponsibly in lust with the cavorting kapranos. i, as the whole crowd [girls and boys]. and if his grin of wild satisfaction was anything to go by, the idea was to make the whole crowd [boys and girls] fall frantically, obliviously and irresponsibly in lust.
strangely enough, the next morning i didn't wish i'd posed with the bloke or rush to download franz ferdinand's discography. i just drank my coffee quietly and, in between pleasurable flashbacks, took to questioning my showmanship. showwomanship, you know. showpersonship. am i, as joanna puts it, a sensitive bore? a poetic bonerkiller? could i ever be a true entertainer? make a festival crowd go rabid? could a woman do that unless she were katy perry? would i do that as a woman? i might feel objectified. could i do that as a woman? i sure hope so.