A Different Kind of Pitch

I’m sheltered.

My delicate sensibilities were shocked at the Pitch Music Showcase. And it wasn’t just the infantile porn hip hop of Bacon Shoe that offended me.

While most people at the five showcase locations were there for the Pitch function, a full third of the head count were composed of the typical Thursday night Westport crowd. Among their numbers were a couple dozen smarmy guys.

I kept bumping into them as they prowled for hook ups. These weren't beer-swilling frat boys. Their leering and guffawing antics are as predictable as they are conventional. The weasels I’m referring to clearly spent time a lot of time in the mirror applying hair spray and musk cologne. They had a ruthless, glassy look in their eyes as they scanned the rooms for "the ladies."

Gross. Are there actually women who go for these men? Self-conscious hipster kids aside, the clientele at the live music bars I almost exclusively frequent are resigned to their scruffy appearance. Any sparks of mutual attraction need to overcome slovenliness, empty wallets and unapologetic geekiness.

I used the Pitch’s function to catch three bands I hadn't yet seen. American Catastrophe were the real revelation, although their dark, brooding music sounds silly in the light of day. I laughed out loud at Bacon Shoe in spite of myself. And I wrote about Brothers Green at my music blog.

And no, I'm not headed for Harpo's tonight.