16th of January 2006 - Don't Rock and Dial
Don't Rock and Dial
By GERRI HIRSHEY
A few months ago, I staked out a spot on the packed dance floor at Irving Plaza to see a rare Manhattan performance by the British piano man Jamie Cullum. As a music journalist, I've cheerfully survived my share of sweaty mosh pits. So had my evening's companion, who is a feisty alumnus of a 1980's punk group. Yet neither of us was prepared for our evening-long tussle with a horde of rock 'n' roll barbarians. Their cudgels were cellphones.
These boors stood with their phones held aloft during the show, intermittently bellowing the lyrics into it for the benefit of some unfortunate friend on the other end. The scourge included camera phones and larger digital cameras as well, scores of them. Their owners elbowed their neighbors, stomped toes and shoved. One disgruntled patron uttered a faint, "Yo! Not cool!" But no one really challenged these bullies, or even asked them to lower their offending arms.
That night at Irving Plaza, Mr. Cullum came into occasional view when one of the barbarians bent down to type in a message and transmit. What little I saw was great. But when my view was again obscured, I started to long for the scabrous je ne sais quoi of the Sex Pistols' Sid Vicious, who would have distressed the offenders' artfully holey $200 jeans with the metal-tipped soles of his Doc Martens. Download this!
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