Until last night, Helena Bonham Carter was my female role model for not giving a sh*t. But move aside, HBC. I’ve met someone newer, albeit older, and her name is Holly Golightly.
Ms. Golightly took the DC9 stage on Sunday with her partner in crime, Lawyer Dave. Her hair askew, bedecked in an over-sized black T-shirt and baggy jeans and downing gin cocktails the entire night, Holly was, simply put, charming. But only because she wanted to be. The woman obviously does not go out of her way for perception’s sake.
Her tongue-in-cheek humor, stories of life in rural Georgia, and sweet shout out to the openers, the Rifle Cleaning Party, who displayed the “liveliness of youth” – all delivered in her British accent had the crowd in a good mood from the start. She and Lawyer proved equal parts comedy and musical act, as they continued the on-stage banter with:
1) tour memories (“Remember the time we were kicked out of Salt Lake City? But then they invited us back? But they made us censor all our songs?”)
2) stories about their farm in rural Georgia (“This song is about our neighbor who routinely burns junk in her front yard… we sing about what we know”)
3) deep questions (“What key is this song in again? You don’t know either? Let’s say E? It’s usually E…”)
4) and drink requests (“Can someone order me another gin and tonic? Thanks Love. That’s right, just ask the bartender there for me. Tell him I have tickets.”)
The songs they had to back up their banter were equally awesome. I particularly enjoyed “My 45” (a fun little track about domestic violence – take it as you will) and “Devil Do” and “SLC” (chorus: Don’t get your hopes up in Salt Lake City/’Cuz you ain’t going to have a good time).
Sing it Holly. And keep doing you.