When You Don't See Me

I saw the Sisters Of Mercy last night at the House of Blues. It was my brother's idea to go, which is sort of hilarious in itself because he could not be less goth. I humored him because I wanted to spend time with him. The show turned out to be pretty good. Even Mike liked it, and he'd never heard of Sisters before. I'm kind of surprised that Mike liked them, because it wasn't a very lyrical show. Andrew Eldritch's vocals sounded like: mumble mumble MUMBLE mumble MUMBLE SHOUT. However, musically, it was pretty representative of their catalog.

We got the tickets several weeks ago, and Andrew (my brother, not the lead singer), asked me if I was going to dress up. I promised him a nod to the goth, but nothing crazy. I outgrew that stuff years ago. But I forgot that it's cold outside, so when it came time to go, I decided against any dressing up at all. I put on jeans and a Tshirt and a hoodie. None of them black. Mike took one look at me and sent me back to the closet. "You're not goth enough." I changed into a little black dress and boots...not exactly Vampira, but more in the spirit.

They played a lot of old stuff. Well, I guess it's all old stuff at this point. The highlight was a rockin' Lucretia My Reflection, but they also played Flood I and Flood II, which was sort of surreal and almost made me remember what it's like to be 17 and in a fog of depression.

Andrew had a great time and his enthusiasm was contagious. He brought a couple of friends with him, who confessed that they knew all of the Sisters songs because of my brother, who knew them because of me. When I stopped to consider how many people I have personally led to the Sisters, I decided that I probably deserve a finder's fee.