The Night of a 1000 Haircuts

The Legs Akimbo Show

Featuring the songs:
Miss Electric Switch
The Night of a Thousand Haircuts
Quadratisch Praktisch Gut

The poet, Ezra Green on “The Legs Akimbo Show” at Altes Finanzamt for the Berlin Month of Performance Art, May 26 2013


I walked out of my house in the evening in the rain,
over the wet cobblestones,
through the mysterious boarded-up alleyway,
across the big avenue,
and into the courtyard that holds the funny little concrete collective venue.

I didn’t even have to pay.

After what I heard was an extremely boring performance piece by two Brazilian girls,
Legs Akimbo started her sound-check,
sending huge beats out into the hall.

My friends were there.
I greeted them and talked a little about the unwieldy, unceasing circling of our human existence.
After a while, I went in and she started.

Legs Akimbo

She was a perfect channel, absorbing and refracting the desires and counter-desires of the audience.

Every gesture was right,
and she held up the dropping nets of doubt every time they would sag.
She held them tight to catch faith inside.
And she caught it; she caught mine.

The states she was singing about
were the kind of deep, fragile solitudes that need songs.
Her songs acknowledged and dissolved the power of fantasy
to rule the mind,
to rule decision,
to rule clarity,
to rule peace.

What does it mean when a performer is generous?
It means that she both receives your fascination and gives it back.

And beats.
Beats are strong.
Beats are masters.

She put enormous beats out into the air and then she flew out to meet them.

Why is it important?
Say it again: since human beings have existed, we have made creations to experience and convey the nature of creation.
The nature of creation is also called wisdom.
Not that it isn’t fun, but it’s not about fun.
The purpose of our lineage is to renew and activate humanity’s connection to creation.
It’s rare to see this being done.
However, through all the bullshit and the materialism, our lineage remains.
How about that.

Afterwards, I helped her carry her smoke machine fluid and her wig back home in a big plastic bag in the rain, and we were harassed by some assholes who were very specific about the fact that, despite her tiny skirt, they were not calling her “Schlampe” but in fact the transgenderd writer we were walking with.

26 MAY 2013

Listen to the backing tracks here: