Couch
Fantasy
[Kitty-Yo/Matador]
Rating: 7.0
So I've written out all the ideas for Couch, my soon-to-be-open restaurant.
And you lucky devil, you'll be the first to hear about it. Well, then.
Everybody knows the primary determinant of a pleasurable dining experience
isn't the food, but rather the ambience. Accordingly, our space will be
antiseptically clean and uncluttered, cavernous, yet oppressively well lit.
Décor: super-minimalist. Only light, cold colors and straight lines. And, of
course, nothing made of wood. In fact, nothing that could even be construed
as having originated from the earth. Any metal you might see you see will have
been smelted from the ore of meteorites. Or a mine in western Pennsylvania,
but that's yet to be determined.
We are acutely aware that a leading cause of restaurant failure is lack of
demographic focus. We're not going out like that. Our target clientele consists
of affectless, highly sophisticated, urban twenty-somethings who majored in
German and/or speak a Scandinavian language. Oh, and people who work for
Artforum, too. Bring 'em along.
There will be a strict unisex dress code requiring all patrons to wear
lederhosen and horn-rimmed glasses. Prada shoes optional. Hey, we can't be
totally inflexible. Bottled water will be served in two sizes: sake
glass size, or full gallon stein. Sake will be served at the sake bar across
the street. Sorry.
Now, on to the food! To "open the appetite," as they say, all our diners will
be shown a video installation entitled Aperitif! by the renowned Finnish
video artist Fritz Rasmussen. Mmmm. For the main course, you will have your
choice of vegan bratwurst or free-range bratwurst, served on rice cakes smoked
over burning plastic.
Our eponymous house band, Couch, will provide our diners with mathematically
precise rhythms they can match their pulse rates to, and by which they can
time their inane chatter. Did I say inane? I meant urbane. But on the
down-low (and suffice to say, any customer overheard using an expression
like "on the down-low" will be unceremoniously thrown to das curb), Couch was
very reluctant to have anything to do with my restaurant. Actually, we came to
an agreement on money issues just yesterday after a long, often contentious
discussion about my vision for the restaurant versus their self-image as a
band. Some excerpts:
Stefanie Böhm (keyboards): Herr Leslie...
Me: ...Please Stefanie, call me Camilo.
Stefanie: Herr Camilo, I believe we are in a misunderstanding. We are
not cold and bloodless, robotic, fascist gallery curators like the people
you would like to attract. We play real instruments! And we are just a band
from Munchen that...
Me: Wait! Your PR person said you were from Munich.
Thomas Geltinger (drums): Sheisskopf!
Michael Heilrath (bass): What Thomas means is that-- though we are oft-compared
to Chicago post-rock, play to a metric perfection, and experiment with
abstraction that some could find off-putting-- even a lazy listen to our
record will reveal many levels of melody, and warmth, and...
Me: I don't know. I mean, I guess so, but it's just... so... mathematical.
Jürgen Söder (guitar): Perhaps it is true some songs, "Ich Bei Davor" and
"Heimweg 78" in particular, might sound to some like hipster Muzak, but
you cannot be in denial of the rocking aggression of songs like "Slogan"
and "Gegen Den" and...
Stefanie: ...and "Camaro!"
Jürgen: Yes, I thought that one was particularly bitchin'.
[awkward silence]
Me: Nevermind. I suppose I see your point. Fantasy is not just one thing. It's
pretty, as well as...
Michael: Multidimensional! At points it soothes, and then at certain
parts dissonant, droning guitar chords, layered over crisp hi-hat and dancy
bass build tension to unbearable levels.,p.
Me: Yeah, like on "Linie Gegen Strich!"
Jürgen: Yah!
Well, I suppose I ought to stop on a positive note. They finally came to
understand my bemused appreciation for their music, and I, in turn, agreed
to let them perform behind a huge white curtain so they wouldn't have to
look at my pretentious customers. All the better. German post-rock shadow
puppets, weekday nights at Couch. Or maybe we'll just bill them as
"electronic musicians pretending to be instrumental musicians that sound
like electronic musicians." Hmm...
-Camilo Arturo Leslie