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music, my zagreb

Fighting for our lives with Handsome Furs


Handsome Furs in Zagreb's Tvornica

I was actually not supposed to go to the Handsom Furs gig. But, the night started with a colleague’s farewell party and finished as a night that wouldn’t end.

My plan was to go to the party and then head to see the I’m From Barcelona around midnight. But, it’s tough times and my attempts to score a free ticket failed, so I decided that 120 kunas (17 euros) was too much for a band that sounded like loads of fun, but that I had no special interest in. Then, somewhere in the middle of the friend’s party I thought some live music would still be good. And since a group of people were going to see the Handsome Furs – and it was half price compared to the I’m From Barcelona – I was in.

I can’t really say I will remember the music. Handsome Furs play really well, on a rational level I recognize that what they do is cool, but their synth-punk doesn’t do much for me. There’s simply no chemistry between us. But there certainly is chemistry between Dan Boeckner and his wife Alexei Perry and for this, the show was definitely worth it. He was, someone claimed, wasted, though he seemed quite together to me. She, on the other hand, looked like she was fighting for her life, with a wild, agitated eyes and dancing moves that at some points made her look as if she was trying to balance on a string, and at others as if a strong tide was pulling her into the sea while she clung to her keyboards. She was sweet and crazy, in her red outfit and green tights, thanking the audience every chance she got, telling us we were amazing, as if no one had ever clapped and cheered at them, poor things.

“Thank you, you’re amazing”, she said at the very beginning, even though there wasn’t that much excitement in the audience.

This went on with every song they played, and she was equally enthusiastic when each of us later asked her if she’d take pictures with her. In the end, it was short and sweet and intense. Our night went on, but this was like a stolen kiss – something that you remember vaguely, but with a smile.

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