Monster
09-07-2003, 05:26 AM
Went to the Sex Pistols concert tonight at the Greek Theatre with my friend Carolyn (whom I've known since preschool). We got there just as Rev. Horton Heat was finishing playing the National Anthem. Just as well that we missed it. I can't stand that song anyway.
So we sit down, and most of the people around us are all 10-20 years older than we are. It's weird. The very first punks now have kids that are my age or a few years older. It's scary. In front of us there was one father-son combo, the son looked to be about 11 or so, but who can tell? The father looked to be about 40, not much over that. Upon inquiring, I learned that it was as I assumed. It was the father's idea to come to the concert. Both were dressed...not conservatively, exactly, but sort of nondescript. In front of them was a mother-son couple. The mother was dressed nondescript, but her 12-year-old son (I'm guessing) was punked out. Bleached mowhawk, Misfits patch pinned to his denim jacket, all that jazz. Everyone else around us was punked out to various degrees. One guy looked like a human mace. His hair was spiked out in at least 20 different directions in 8" spikes (or longer). Others were punked and tattooed, some were Rocabillied (looked like they were from "Grease!" in some cases), and some, albeit very few, were dressed nonchalantly. I was in cargo jeans, a skin-tight black t-shirt, and a white short-sleeve button-down that I left open over the black tee.
Now, on to the actual meat of the story. The concert itself. Huzzah.
Rev. Horton Heat played the 1st set, and it lasted about 30 minutes. Highly enjoyable, got the audience warmed up, and had most of us screaming "J-I-M-B-O" for the Jimbo Song. That was fun. The bassist plays a classic stand-up bass, which caught me off guard. I didn't expect a stand-up bass to be at a concert like this. Shows what I know. The mid-range treble was raised too high, so some guitar notes and vocal pitches were heared over others, which made it unbalanced and really difficult to hear (and thus enjoy) the songs. Very fun though. Me likey Rockabilly (Caridad, if you're ever in need of a concert buddy, gimme a call).
Intermission #1. Went with Carolyn to go look at the T-shirt booth. Wound up buying the new Dropkick Murphys CD (with bonus DVD) for $15. At Tower or places like it, I would've probably had to pay at least double. ****ing recording companies. EMI, Universal, and all the rest need to be bombed.
Return to seats. Fade up green lights and white on background for the big Dropkick Murphys sign. Enter Dropkick Murphys. Of the three bands, these guys had the best energy of the night. Both ways. They were the most active band, they moved around the most, they had the most musical variety, they got the most excitement from the audience...the energy was great both coming to and going from the band. The audience was really awesome, esp. the few behind us who I believe came to the show for the sole purpose of seeing Dropkick Murphys live, as they were quite drunk at that point and left immediately after the set. I wound up very, very glad that I bought their new CD, it's really fun and the lyrics are amazing. For a couple songs they called out a special guest singer, Stephanie *last name drowned out by screaming fans*. She sang two songs with the band. I also noticed a few things about the band. 1) The bassist is left-handed; 2) the bassist appears to be the real core/leader of the band. Knowing nothing of their history, this is just the impression I got. I sang along with the lyrics I knew, screamed where appropriate for a "HEY! HEY! HEY!" and the like, and...just generally enjoyed myself. Near the end of the set, the following conversation took place (figure we're both screaming just to be heard):
Me: "Now I know why they have intermissions between sets!"
Her: "What?"
Me: "Exactly."
Overall, their set was roughly an hour. 50 minutes, perhaps.
Intermission #2. Sent Caridad a text message. Talked with Carolyn about various things, mostly waiting until I could hear well enough to talk with her. My hearing was about halfway back when the lights dimmed and...
Set #3 begins. Very subtle initially, no bright flashing lights or anything. Sort of an anticlimactic entrance, in hindsight. We all thought that they were the concert techs setting stuff up or plugging things in or something. Then, of course, Johnny Rotten comes out and it's pretty clear that it's him. They start their set, but the music itself isn't what sticks out in my mind. It's how lacadaisical the band was. The two guitarists were just kinda...there. Nothing really drew my eye to them. Johnny walked around the stage doing his thing, but had nowhere near the panache or flair of either of the preceeding bands. He is, of course, the original, so there is something to be said for that, but I think that all the years of heavy drug use combined with 25+ years of being Johnny Rotten just wore him down somewhat. He just looks tired. His between-song talks were fun(ny) though. At one point he looked out and said "Do you see any KROQ here?" (Response: Screaming "NO!") "Do you see any MTV here?" (Response: screamed "**** NO!") "Do you see any L.A. Times here?" (response: screamed "HELL NO!") "That's right! *makes jerk-off motion* Good riddance."
--Unfortunate Memory Warning--
All during the Sex Pistols set, people were standing up or sitting down, lots of motion (and of course, the mosh pit down in the front). Anyway, three rows in front of me is this really big fat **** (thank you Mr. Carlin for that wonderful phrase) who, when he stands up, gives all of us behind him a nauseating view of almost all of his 3.5-foot-wide ass. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating on the size, but I'm not sure. At that moment, the mother-son combo had already moved to the side, but both Carolyn and I and the father-son combo in front of us moved to the isle at that point. The father looked at me and smiled, knowing that we both had moved for the same reason. What can I say? He was right. I smiled back. We enjoyed the rest of the set in a peace without the return of the fatass. Rotten's parting monologue after the final song of the set was a roughly one-minute "**** you" to the recording industry, telling them to **** off, and kiss his ass good bye. After which, the band left the stage, waited, keeping the audience in applauding anticipation, and then returned for "Anarchy in the U.S.A./U.K." as an encore. Then it was really over, and we left.
Carolyn took me to Swingers, a late-night diner on Beverly Blvd. right near the Beverly Center. I'd never been there, so it was a new (and good) experience for me. She told me it's the pre- and post-club hangout spot, so at about 2 or 3 a.m. there's a line around the block to get in. It was a cool place to eat, even if the food wasn't that great.
And now here I sit. Bidding you a good evening and beginning to contemplate the option of sleep.
So we sit down, and most of the people around us are all 10-20 years older than we are. It's weird. The very first punks now have kids that are my age or a few years older. It's scary. In front of us there was one father-son combo, the son looked to be about 11 or so, but who can tell? The father looked to be about 40, not much over that. Upon inquiring, I learned that it was as I assumed. It was the father's idea to come to the concert. Both were dressed...not conservatively, exactly, but sort of nondescript. In front of them was a mother-son couple. The mother was dressed nondescript, but her 12-year-old son (I'm guessing) was punked out. Bleached mowhawk, Misfits patch pinned to his denim jacket, all that jazz. Everyone else around us was punked out to various degrees. One guy looked like a human mace. His hair was spiked out in at least 20 different directions in 8" spikes (or longer). Others were punked and tattooed, some were Rocabillied (looked like they were from "Grease!" in some cases), and some, albeit very few, were dressed nonchalantly. I was in cargo jeans, a skin-tight black t-shirt, and a white short-sleeve button-down that I left open over the black tee.
Now, on to the actual meat of the story. The concert itself. Huzzah.
Rev. Horton Heat played the 1st set, and it lasted about 30 minutes. Highly enjoyable, got the audience warmed up, and had most of us screaming "J-I-M-B-O" for the Jimbo Song. That was fun. The bassist plays a classic stand-up bass, which caught me off guard. I didn't expect a stand-up bass to be at a concert like this. Shows what I know. The mid-range treble was raised too high, so some guitar notes and vocal pitches were heared over others, which made it unbalanced and really difficult to hear (and thus enjoy) the songs. Very fun though. Me likey Rockabilly (Caridad, if you're ever in need of a concert buddy, gimme a call).
Intermission #1. Went with Carolyn to go look at the T-shirt booth. Wound up buying the new Dropkick Murphys CD (with bonus DVD) for $15. At Tower or places like it, I would've probably had to pay at least double. ****ing recording companies. EMI, Universal, and all the rest need to be bombed.
Return to seats. Fade up green lights and white on background for the big Dropkick Murphys sign. Enter Dropkick Murphys. Of the three bands, these guys had the best energy of the night. Both ways. They were the most active band, they moved around the most, they had the most musical variety, they got the most excitement from the audience...the energy was great both coming to and going from the band. The audience was really awesome, esp. the few behind us who I believe came to the show for the sole purpose of seeing Dropkick Murphys live, as they were quite drunk at that point and left immediately after the set. I wound up very, very glad that I bought their new CD, it's really fun and the lyrics are amazing. For a couple songs they called out a special guest singer, Stephanie *last name drowned out by screaming fans*. She sang two songs with the band. I also noticed a few things about the band. 1) The bassist is left-handed; 2) the bassist appears to be the real core/leader of the band. Knowing nothing of their history, this is just the impression I got. I sang along with the lyrics I knew, screamed where appropriate for a "HEY! HEY! HEY!" and the like, and...just generally enjoyed myself. Near the end of the set, the following conversation took place (figure we're both screaming just to be heard):
Me: "Now I know why they have intermissions between sets!"
Her: "What?"
Me: "Exactly."
Overall, their set was roughly an hour. 50 minutes, perhaps.
Intermission #2. Sent Caridad a text message. Talked with Carolyn about various things, mostly waiting until I could hear well enough to talk with her. My hearing was about halfway back when the lights dimmed and...
Set #3 begins. Very subtle initially, no bright flashing lights or anything. Sort of an anticlimactic entrance, in hindsight. We all thought that they were the concert techs setting stuff up or plugging things in or something. Then, of course, Johnny Rotten comes out and it's pretty clear that it's him. They start their set, but the music itself isn't what sticks out in my mind. It's how lacadaisical the band was. The two guitarists were just kinda...there. Nothing really drew my eye to them. Johnny walked around the stage doing his thing, but had nowhere near the panache or flair of either of the preceeding bands. He is, of course, the original, so there is something to be said for that, but I think that all the years of heavy drug use combined with 25+ years of being Johnny Rotten just wore him down somewhat. He just looks tired. His between-song talks were fun(ny) though. At one point he looked out and said "Do you see any KROQ here?" (Response: Screaming "NO!") "Do you see any MTV here?" (Response: screamed "**** NO!") "Do you see any L.A. Times here?" (response: screamed "HELL NO!") "That's right! *makes jerk-off motion* Good riddance."
--Unfortunate Memory Warning--
All during the Sex Pistols set, people were standing up or sitting down, lots of motion (and of course, the mosh pit down in the front). Anyway, three rows in front of me is this really big fat **** (thank you Mr. Carlin for that wonderful phrase) who, when he stands up, gives all of us behind him a nauseating view of almost all of his 3.5-foot-wide ass. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating on the size, but I'm not sure. At that moment, the mother-son combo had already moved to the side, but both Carolyn and I and the father-son combo in front of us moved to the isle at that point. The father looked at me and smiled, knowing that we both had moved for the same reason. What can I say? He was right. I smiled back. We enjoyed the rest of the set in a peace without the return of the fatass. Rotten's parting monologue after the final song of the set was a roughly one-minute "**** you" to the recording industry, telling them to **** off, and kiss his ass good bye. After which, the band left the stage, waited, keeping the audience in applauding anticipation, and then returned for "Anarchy in the U.S.A./U.K." as an encore. Then it was really over, and we left.
Carolyn took me to Swingers, a late-night diner on Beverly Blvd. right near the Beverly Center. I'd never been there, so it was a new (and good) experience for me. She told me it's the pre- and post-club hangout spot, so at about 2 or 3 a.m. there's a line around the block to get in. It was a cool place to eat, even if the food wasn't that great.
And now here I sit. Bidding you a good evening and beginning to contemplate the option of sleep.