Inspired by one my favourite music blogs The Power of Independent Trucking I post a link to this - 40 or so minutes of chat from the stage between Fugazi and their audiences (something I am privileged to say I was part of on several occasions). A recording that shows my unrelenting nerdiness when it comes to heavy, guitar-driven music from America's underground but also how blindingly stupid people can be when put in the concert situation. Also, it shows Fugazi up to be the funny, insightful, erudite and occasionally bad tempered chaps the are (were). I guess I would be too I suppose if I had to put up with drunk arseholes shouting abuse at me as I did my job.
My first attempt at properly spicing up my burger patties wasn't quite as full on expected. I blended beef with Schwartz bbq seasoning (which is basically paprika, salt and garlic powder) grated parmesan and chopped chipotle chiles in adobo sauce. Note: these sweet hot peppers are about 3 inches long and come doused in a smoky, seriously ballsy tomato sauce and help make my bastard huevos rancheros a proper weekend at Bernies. Although to be fair, you could stick these bad boys in pretty much anything and it would improve it (I know, I've tried). Anyway, I digress...
My first schoolboy error with the burgers was I should removed the seeds and chopped the pepper way finer. I wanted to get that amazing deep, smoky flavour and sweet tang that chipotles have but it didn't quite come through as much or as consistently as I'd hoped. The principle was right, but the proportions and texture were totally wrong.
Also, finding the right complementary fittings for something fiery like this is always tricky. The compulsion would be to top with sour cream or fruit for balance but the ice cream or bananas I had to hand weren't really gonna cut it so I improvised a little.
A first attempt at construction included a fried egg and some amazing Mrs Renfro's corn salsa (again, a genius Lupe Pintos purchase) but that was total overkill. Something of a revelation for me as 'too much' of anything isn't something I am familiar with when it comes to food. A second take was stripped back to mayo, lettuce, tomato, fried red onions, shaved parmesan and a generous dash of frank's hot sauce. The latter was unnecessary, as the onions were really sweet and were the dominant flavour - the parmesan was a pleasant surprise a salty treat and not cloying. For my next attempt at this I'll go further down the Tex/Mex route, maybe monkey around with adding other dry spices to the patty and different cheese. More research required. Back to Lupe's methinks...
If this burger was a wedding it would be: the one someone told me about recently where someone threw the bride - dress and all - into the hotel pool during the reception. Once you get over the initial shock you're left with something thats a bit messy and could end up in a trip to casualty.
I finally got a copy of Faith by The Cure on CD. This replaces the copy on cassette which was taped from the vinyl borrowed from Glenburn Public Library (no sorry, home taping wasn't killing music). I listened to it again in it's entirety - it's one of those records that sounds better in one sitting - as I drove on a dark, cold, quiet morning. Within seconds I was 19 again and trudging through snow on my commute to Springburn College, a time when this album was one of a Stereo One carrier bag full of records that provided a soundtrack to my first sashays into a post-high school world.
More than a few years on, not much has changed. It is still a breathtaking record that leaves me wide eyed and shivery. The music is as simple and ingenious as I remember. Lyrically, as a 19 year-old listening to what was (at time of recording) a 22 year-old's bookish, overwrought world view it sounded unflinching, brave and stark. Today, with nearly 20 years of something resembling perspective, the brutality is tempered by the sadness - and I realise it isn't quite the indulgence to revel in pop record sadness as it used to be either. That doesn't make Faith any less rewarding a listen, it just means your skin is a little thicker in some places and thinner in others. I spent a lot of my youth wrestling with The Cure's substantial musical cache but always came back to this record for a peculiar kind of comfort. I think I subconsciously avoided buying this record as I think I wanted to preserve it they way I enjoyed it back then. I needn't have worried.
I was not at this gig as I was only 11. Billy Sloan was. How nice for him. And us.
