Jul 22nd, 2002
Update - 7/22/07
I had a great weekend though so I feel thoroughly refreshed and ready to go back to work. The festivities began on Friday, with a trip to The Whistle Stop to see Ilya perform. They put on a good show, and I was pleased to find a new venue relatively close to my house. The Whistle Stop is what you would expect out of your typical North Park venue -a whole hell of a lot similar to a Coors light commercial, and including one or all of the following: retro clothing, black horn-rimmed glasses, some big fat guy with a beard, a crew of guys who look like band members from Weezer, and girls wearing clothing inspired by Courtney Love. In other words, it is far superior to either Pacific Beach or downtown.
As usual, Ilya played a terrific show and I’m convinced that it is only a matter of time until they really explode (in a good way). The band is extremely talented, and Blanca, the lead singer, has a hauntingly beautiful voice, a look that goes well with her music, and interesting hand gestures that my friend James referred to as “robot-like.” I’m not sure what the hell that means, but she is talented.
James wanted to head to Bar Dynamite, so after being initially rejected by the normally-cool bouncer because James was wearing sandals, returning home to pick up shoes for James, and then returning to Dynamite, we were grooving to the hip-hop that has made Bar Dynamite one of the most popular alternatives to downtown San Diego’s cookie-cutter procession of trendy Manhattan-wannabe clubs.
There is something Earthy about Dynamite, and it’s not entirely the fact that it is filthy and smells like human sweat, but there is something really refreshing about people who couldn’t care less about the way they look, or the way that they are dressed, or, in most cases, the way they dance.
The highlight of the night was turning from the dance floor towards the bar, and seeing James sitting on some girl’s lap.
