Turn on the Bright Lights
February 21st, 2005 | Posted by Shannon
At the Great America Amusement Park in Santa Clara, California, there is a roller coaster called “The Tidal Wave.” This roller coaster leaves the boarding station at 60 miles per hour. You are catapulted forward at a high speed, instantly, and it is a total rush.
This is what the beginning of Interpol’s “Not Even Jail” sounds like. And they played it last night, but without the first, launched rocket moment. Still, it was a pretty stellar show.
Mark and I got there after some fortification at The Vine, armed with small water bottles of Syrah in case the line to get into the club was long. The line WAS long, but it was moving really, really fast. There, we ran into Renee, a server at The Vine and her boyfriend (I think his name is Jim.) Lucky this, as I shared the wine with them – otherwise I would have had to guzzle it, or throw it out. And I don’t like to throw wine out, ever.
Once in, we got somewhat close to the stage along a side wall where there was a little ledge about four feet off the ground. Thanks god for this ledge, and for my own pushy self. Because of this ledge, and being pushy, I got to watch the entire show from a great height while the teeming mass saw the backs of each other’s heads. Mark wasn’t so lucky, and looked up at me often with a look of total pain. The show was oversold, and everyone was pushing and shoving on the floor.
At first I sort of just hung out by the ledge, as there were many people sitting on it already, with no room for me. When Blonde Redhead came on, and all those people stood up, I hoisted my butt up on the very edge and waited. I could tell the guy standing behind me wanted to kick me in the head, but he didn’t (thanks god.) I tried to be good at that point and not move around too much. Blonde Redhead was Just O.K. But opening acts aren’t really allowed to shine.
Once the opener was off the stage, everyone sat down but I stayed where I was – I was up there above everyone and there was no way I was giving that up. But finally the guy standing behind whined, “can you get down? I was here first…” I really had no choice but to move. Those within hearing distance exchanged “what a wanker” glances with me. When you’ve got a thousand people in a space for five hundred to fit comfortably… let’s just say you have to give a little. It’s what we put up with, for the music.
Thankfully, the girl next to me went to the bathroom, and I took that opportunity to sweet talk her boyfriend into letting me back up, which he did, no problemo. For this I gave him a hit off my flask of Bouteille Call. Now I was sitting right next to the Wanker, who would not look at me.
All this drama did not matter once Interpol came on. We all stood up (me with some difficulty – my pants were way too tight to do this with any sort of grace) and from then on, everyone was screaming, including the Wanker. He even drowned out the hundreds of screaming teenaged girls on the floor at one point.
My ears are still ringing; it was Really Fucking Loud. Everyone on the ledge was happy, and in front of the stage the teeming mass pushed forward, screaming. I was SO happy I was not down there. I was SO happy that I had the view I did. It was like being in a box seat. I could then see why the Wanker wanted to protect his spot- it was the best one in the house. So I gave him a chance to apologize to me.
“Sorry I sat on your feet before,” I yelled.
“Sorry I was a dick,” he screamed.
He then ceased to be a Wanker, and from then on was just a crazed music freak, just like me.
This show was not the best show I have ever seen, but I really have to say, the lighting was, without a doubt, the absolute best lighting I have ever seen. Even better than Radiohead’s shows – and this means genius. The combinations of color rocked as hard as the band did. Oranges and pinks, turquoise and purple… this shot about says it all.
And I guess I am a new convert in the Cult of Carlos D. Those lights on those tight black pants? My God. He really was quite a figure up there ? I had to be fifty yards away but that guy just screams charisma. I searched all morning for a shot of his, ahem, backside. But all I could find was this shot from the Matador Records website (scroll down to the first picture.) My days of being a teenybopper are long over, but I just totally fell in love with that guy. Long legs, long torso, and a seriously tight outfit. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It’s enough to make a girl go Goth.
Damn.
All in all, a fine evening, and now if I have to go to SOMA again I’ll know about that ledge, and get there early enough to get myself up there.
Today I was off for President’s Day and spent a good part of the day looking for pictures of Carlos D on stage. Now I am going to order Chinese food and watch Gone With the Wind on TCM. Who said being alone sucks?
This sucks though – my brother’s department (percussion) at San Diego State got cut because of budget cuts. Just like that. He is, understandably, totally pissed off. And a world without drummers would be a sad world indeed.
