Greenside stops sucking…a little less

I don’t like Gin, what I do like is going to Gin…well at least now I do.

I think those of us who have been going to Greenside since…well let’s just say a very long time, can agree that it has turned into somewhat of a trap for boets and highly strung girls parading around on the sidewalk wearing unreasonably high shoes and cocktail dresses.

Now first things first why would you attempt to walk around the incredibly uneven pavement in 6inch heals? It’s more bizarre than someone joining the KONY2012 cause. I have actually made it into a sport watching these young girls (because no woman would make that mistake), and betting on how far they can walk before slipping or tripping up on a jagged piece of concrete.

They generally travel in packs of three or more and then attempt to look relaxed as they sit at Mamma’s Shebeen looking more out of place than Julius Malema at an ANC meeting, with splinters from the worn out furniture up their ass, which further attributes to the ‘I literally have a stick up my ass look’, that is more noticeable than their YDE bought cocktail dress that is exactly the same as their BFFs’ who is trailing behind trying to mask a twisted ankle and a scraped knee dealt out by the ever vengeful pothole just before Bob Rocks. Yes you know the one I’m talking about.

Even Bob Rocks has turned from an Indie ‘hidey hole’…into just a hole. I went there for a drink last week where I was assaulted by a teenager wearing the thickest chain I have ever seen, accompanied by the entire earth’s supply of gel in his hair, which I have to admit, is pretty impressive.

Where hipsters once lined the walls skulking about their really bad choice to go through with getting that bowl shaped haircut, were now exact replicas of those awful Bratz dolls in what I presume were there ‘Disco Feva’ outfits. Needless to say it sucked listening to The Black Eyed Peas while being judged for my flat shoes and disheveled hair.

Defeated I joined my friends at Gin, expecting the usual dub-step crazed crowd guarding the bar making it harder to get to than Mordor on a bad day. What was usually a struggle which included grasping onto the hands of my friends screaming share the load and having to fight a pissed off Nazgûl just to reach the toilet turned into a pleasant 14 second walk, where I got my drink after a minute or two of waiting and what’s more service with a smile!

Still a little sceptical and trying to guide my friend who had been present for the half price cocktails a few hours earlier and had drunken more than her fair share my ears were graced with the sound of The Pixies and then RHCP and then about an hour of straight up rock and flipping roll. What’s more is that every Tue night they are hosting an Indie night and in their words “The Good Old Days are Back Again”…it sure seems like it.

See all the details for the event here: The Good Old Days are Back Again.

You whoever you might be…you need a raise!

Let do it!

 

So it’s no secret that I’m not the biggest fan of what I term ‘commercial’ music… let the ‘you’re a hipster’ comments roll in! I am always keen on some electro or dup step…pretty much that doesn’t include that drunk woman from Barbados some like to call Rihanna, or anything that the cast of Jersey Shore would listen to, mostly from sheer fear of turning orange and losing my ability to string a coherent sentence together.

Those of you that have had the pleasure of enjoying my company on a night out can attest to this as I usually protest to songs by swearing as loudly as possible at them or sending bottles hurtling towards their head especially when anything by Katy Perry comes on and on occasion I’ve been known to stand still and repeat “This place is so hectic,” over and over again much to the dismay of my friends passed out on the couch next to me.

Nothing in the world annoys me more than the sound of the swishswish  a jocks matching Adidas tracksuit makes as he attempts to impress ‘chicks’ with his two stepping ( something that he has spent years in front of a mirror protein shake in hand perfecting). All the while the ‘chicks’ gyrate and jiggle their bodies in ways that even the performers at Cirque du Soleil would be impressed by while randomly making shouting out ‘let’s go girrrlz’ or the window shattering ‘ooowaooo’…perhaps a mating call I have yet to learn.

But I digress! So it’s clear I’m not the biggest fan of commercial (code for crap) music. Because of my open hatred for really bad music I generally bury myself in anything ska/punk/rockindie etc that I can get my hands on…and NO Prime Circle and the flipping Parlatones do not count as rock, or music for that matter and should join the likes of New Kids On The Block that mislead younger generations into thinking the noise they make is music. A trial similar to Nuremburg should be held for such ear offenders!

Slowly but surely I have been opened up to the awesomeness of electro through some rather late nights at Truth and forced participation on a number of holidays. My mind was blown however when I watched the official Tomorrowland after movie last year and revisited it again this year. Holy smokes it looks like the best time ever, let’s call it an Oppikoppi on ecstasy! Whoever made that video needs one big high five and one big raise.

Let the saving commence! It’s going to be a wicked three days, and who knows maybe a few ‘oooowaooos’ will slip out…at Tomorrow land anything looks possible.

What the video here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7CdTAiaLes ! Be prepared to lose your face…and dignity.