The Writings

Ty Segall at the Black Cat

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God dammit.

I fucked up. I don't get upset when some unfortunate circumstance arises or some challenge presents itself that I wasn't able to overcome, though I know I achieved to the best of my ability. So the fact that I'm upset should alert you that something I could've prevented occurred. And now, I'm pissed off. God dammit.

I'll try my best to explain without using too many fucking expletives resulting from my present state of frustration. I was really looking forward to this show, seeing how I love Ty Segall and have been following him for quite a while now. As soon as I caught wind he'd be performing in my 'hood, I may or may not have squee'd fanatically while I purchased tickets. As I have previously stated in blog posts of yore, the Black Cat lets you bring in whatever camera you'd like with no restrictions, with the catch being as long as you can handle whatever happens during the show, since there will be no photographer's pit. Fair enough. I've shot amidst a rambunctious crowd at the Black Lips show, so bring it on!

However, crowds were the least of my concerns. I don't own my dream lens - the Canon 24-70mm f/2.8 - of which my ogling and drooling over has been well documented on this site. I went to rent the lens for use during this show, since that is apparently how I take the edge off of a career taking photographs: taking more photographs. I saw a 24-70mm lens and proceeded to rent the motherfucker. When the delivery arrived, I open the box, and what do I see? A 24-70mm lens, all right. Except, it's not a f/2.8; it's a motherfucking f/4. FUCK! How am I supposed to shoot with that nonsense in the darkness of the Black Cat?! God dammit.

Despite my error of not double-checking my order and wasting money on a piece of shit fucking lens because I'm a fucking moron, I went with it. Why not, right? Let's teach myself a fucking lesson.

With the aperture cranked wide, wide open to a f/4, I proceeded to shoot the concert. Let's just say the results were less than ideal, which is infuriating considering how much I was looking forward to this show. I had the ISO to 3200 and a shutter speed somewhere in the ball park of 1/60th - not the speed I want to shoot a concert at, ever, but not too slow so I might actually capture something. I decided to go for some experimental shots, inspired by the cover to his album, Lemons. Sure. Why not?

So, here are the resulting images before I essentially got smashed into the thigh-high stage by the pressing crowd behind me, moshing and shoving during the entire show, only adding to the frustrations. To reward myself for surviving, I proceeded to the bar and drowned my sorrows into some $5 Yuenglings. Hope you like the photos, and if you don't, I hope you learned a valuable lesson as to what happens when you don't fucking double-check your fucking order. Fuck.

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Until next time,

- Patrick