The Local News.
How come it seems like every single rock concert turns out to be an adventure? The following is a transposition of one I had last night.
Local H was playing in Allston, Mass. When I first learned of this venue, I knew immediately I was in attendance. This was undoubtedly the closest they have ever been to my proximity, so there was absolutely nothing going to stop me from finally witnessing their much hyped live show.
I went alone, which was a bit of a shame. I had invited pretty much the only 7 people I know who know the band to come with me, but they all ditched on me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't deterred a little bit. Going to a concert by yourself is a little depressing. In my opinion, a concert experience is derived of two equally important parts: the band you're seeing, and the people you're seeing them with. While one can easily trump the other and still make for an awesome experience (such as last night), you need them both to create the ultimate concert experience.
Alone, but still stoked, I shoved off early enough. With the aid of Mapquest, I find Allston relatively easily. The place is essentially an extension of Boston. A very sketchy slummy extension. It was a creepy, evil looking town. I find the venue, Harper's Ferry, shortly after. But then I discover the biggest flaw plaguing the city. There was no public parking whatsoever. There was on-street parking, yet only offering 90 minute time limits. And every establishment parking had signs warning of towing for unauthorized vehicles. I have never once heeded this warning until I saw two cars getting towed in different parking lots. So now I'm beginning to fear, driving around like a jackass looking for some sort of public parking. Nada. After over an hour of searching, I finally decide to take my chances and find a city lot behind a booze store. The time limit is 2 hours, and I know I'd be there longer, so the entire night I had half my mind on the status of my car. They really ought to invest in a parking garage. I would've gladly paid for the peace of mind.
Anywho, I stow my car and walk the dirty street block to the bar. It's about 8:30, and the band doesn't get rolling until 9:30. And again, I'm by myself, so I feel like a fool. It's when I got swore at by a guy wearing a Boston Red Sox shirt that I realize I made a horrible mistake. Now, I come to Boston fairly occasionally, and I always wear my Yankee hat without fear. But I've always stated that my pride might have to reserve itself if I ever entered a bar or club in the city. Well, I seemingly forgot about that and wore my Bronx cap. I wasn't accosted though, thank God. I can either atest that to the fact my Boston Celtics sweatshirt nullified it, or that most people were concerning themselves with the H than maligning a Yankee fan.
So I've got jack shit to do until the music begins. I can't drink because I'm driving home that evening, and I don't want to look like a pussy by ordering a pepsi. So I basically clung to the wall with other fans talking around me. At one point I head into the bathroom to conduct a little business, but in the process, I take time to pull the Local H concert poster off the stall door. Hello, souvenir. I left and found a spot on the floor to keep my sweatshirt, hoping it would still be there by the end of the night.
At 9:30, the opening band came on stage. Lions, they called themselves. Tough crowd they were playing to. Everyone crowded around but seemingly refused to move for them. They had a decent sound, though it was nothing really mind blowing. Their drummer was pretty decent. But to me, the band is summed up by their bassist. The dude looked EXACTLY like the Interrupter from the Conan O'Brien sketch. To the tee. Even the sick mustache was nearly identical. It was eerie.
Lions end their set, mercifully. It was waiting the extra 30 minutes for Scott and Brian to come on that I begin to wonder if this was going to be a waste. I came to jump and yell and it looked like the crowd was going to stand completely still. Why come to a concert just to watch?
But the H finally take the stage. They open with a song off the new album. Now, I had pre-ordered the album from Amazon a day before it's release and was fully expecting to be able to recognize the new songs when they played the new ones. Alas, I still do not have the new CD in my hands, and that pisses me off. So all their new tracks (they played about 5 of them) were completely new to me. However, if from what I heard last night is any indication at all, especially the opening song, I'm going to fucking love it. But that's no surprise.
The first two songs, both new ones but I recognize the second one as "Michelle" from the band's MySpace, were tight but it didn't look like the band was fully engaged. The crowd was also a little stiff. But all that changed with the band's third song. It certainly loosened up the band, the crowd, and definitely me. On the drive down, I gave As Good As Dead a listen, and fully remember thinking to the point of actually saying out loud "Man, I hope they play this song tonight". The song I was referencing was "I Saw What You Did, And I Know Who You Are". And the band followed through. That brought a large cheer from me.
The rest of the setlist featured the band's go-to concert tracks. "All Right (Oh Yeah)", "Hands on the Bible", "How's the Weather Down There?", "All the Kids Are Right". For retrospect, they played "Mayonaise and Malaise", which sounded absolutely incredible live. The point that really sent the venue into the stratosphere was their fifth song of the set, "California Songs". Naturally, that's the song that nearly everyone in the club knew, so it was the quintessential singalong.
Funny thing about "California Songs". It has the lean verse before jumping into a loud and brash chorus. A small mosh pit got going during this song, but only during the chorus. During the verse everyone would stop moshing. Apparently not everyone paid attention to this pattern. Some guy had a beer in his hand and was trying to get to the front of the crowd at a "calm" part of the verse. Knowing the chorus was coming up, I knew someone was going to be wearing a beer. Sure enough, Scott starts wailing away and the kid gets nailed by a mosher. Beer goes flying.
During one of their new songs, again, the small mosh pit got going. I decided to steer clear of it as my back had been hurting. But I was still close enough to it. And everyone who's been to a rock concert knows the protocol when it comes to the people near the pit. You catch or stop people coming near you and help those up who fall. The girl in front of me, not moshing but right next to the pit, gets knocked back by the pit. So I put my hands up and I stop her from falling. I could tell right away she thought I was trying to cop a feel. So I was expecting the look back in digust and/or her moving somewhere else. She looks back alright, but with a very coy smile. Sweet. She then turns to who I could only assume was her boyfriend and says something. But I don't fear. God, I could've destroyed that kid if he wanted to try it. And I can't say that about a lot of people, so imagine how much of a pansy this guy must've been.
Anyway, the band closes out the set with a 10 minute version of "HFMF" which began with a 4 minute intro consisting of Scott Lucas stepping down from the stage and onto the floor to riff out a great intro. He followed that up by blasting distortion while he took a girl's camera to take pictures of Brian and the crowd. He pocketed the camera and began the song, which is downright sensational live. At the bridge, he took one last shot of himself before offering the camera back to the girl. Fuckin' righteous.
The encore comes, and they probably left the crowd abated a bit too long as the encore chant was beginning to lose steam after a couple minutes. But Scott and Brian return, and people begin to yell out songs. I myself yelled out "Payback is a Mother", but that went unheeded. After one suggestion, Scott says "If there is a God, I would pray to him every day that there be one concert that I play at or go to where some jerk in the audience doesn't yell 'Free Bird'." He then proceeded to explain how their roadmate's, the aformentioned Lions, have a strange obsession with marshmallows. After engaging the crowd a bit, he begins to play a distorted opening to "Stairway to Heaven" and even sings the first couple words before he stops, ensuing it all in jest.
The encore began with another new song, equally as good. It jumped into an interesting rendition of CCR's "Bad Moon Rising". The next song blew my mind, which was a combined song, leading off with "Bound For the Floor" before transforming into "25 or 6 to 4", ultimately transforming back into the ending to "Bound For the Floor". Freaking awesome. They capped off the night with their famous by now, I'm sure, cover of "Wolf Like Me". Before sending the crowd off, they did an altered version of Cheap Trick's "Hello There" into more of a "good night" themed send off.
The feeling of my eardrums erupting was a familiar feeling, and one I cared so little about. As I neared the exit, I got in line to get the H's merch table to have Scott and Brian sign the poster I ganked from the bathroom, but realized that it was going to take far too long. That, and I was still nervous about my car. Seeing that it had not been towed, I put in Hamfisted, sat for a minute to collect the experience in my head, then took off.
I once read in an article that, according to the reporter's (bullshit) opinion, CDs are only promotional tools used to get people to come out to their shows. I disagree with that statement, but I will take a little solace in it. There are some bands who once you hear on record, you get the sudden urge to see them live. Needless to say, Local H is one of those bands. I had read countless reviews and heard such great things about their live shows. And they all did them due justice, living up to the hype I read about. I'm sure they just sold me forever, as I'm sure I'll make every effort to catch them every single time they stop in New England now. Once is not enough.
Scratch #17 off The List
Local H was playing in Allston, Mass. When I first learned of this venue, I knew immediately I was in attendance. This was undoubtedly the closest they have ever been to my proximity, so there was absolutely nothing going to stop me from finally witnessing their much hyped live show.
I went alone, which was a bit of a shame. I had invited pretty much the only 7 people I know who know the band to come with me, but they all ditched on me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't deterred a little bit. Going to a concert by yourself is a little depressing. In my opinion, a concert experience is derived of two equally important parts: the band you're seeing, and the people you're seeing them with. While one can easily trump the other and still make for an awesome experience (such as last night), you need them both to create the ultimate concert experience.
Alone, but still stoked, I shoved off early enough. With the aid of Mapquest, I find Allston relatively easily. The place is essentially an extension of Boston. A very sketchy slummy extension. It was a creepy, evil looking town. I find the venue, Harper's Ferry, shortly after. But then I discover the biggest flaw plaguing the city. There was no public parking whatsoever. There was on-street parking, yet only offering 90 minute time limits. And every establishment parking had signs warning of towing for unauthorized vehicles. I have never once heeded this warning until I saw two cars getting towed in different parking lots. So now I'm beginning to fear, driving around like a jackass looking for some sort of public parking. Nada. After over an hour of searching, I finally decide to take my chances and find a city lot behind a booze store. The time limit is 2 hours, and I know I'd be there longer, so the entire night I had half my mind on the status of my car. They really ought to invest in a parking garage. I would've gladly paid for the peace of mind.
Anywho, I stow my car and walk the dirty street block to the bar. It's about 8:30, and the band doesn't get rolling until 9:30. And again, I'm by myself, so I feel like a fool. It's when I got swore at by a guy wearing a Boston Red Sox shirt that I realize I made a horrible mistake. Now, I come to Boston fairly occasionally, and I always wear my Yankee hat without fear. But I've always stated that my pride might have to reserve itself if I ever entered a bar or club in the city. Well, I seemingly forgot about that and wore my Bronx cap. I wasn't accosted though, thank God. I can either atest that to the fact my Boston Celtics sweatshirt nullified it, or that most people were concerning themselves with the H than maligning a Yankee fan.
So I've got jack shit to do until the music begins. I can't drink because I'm driving home that evening, and I don't want to look like a pussy by ordering a pepsi. So I basically clung to the wall with other fans talking around me. At one point I head into the bathroom to conduct a little business, but in the process, I take time to pull the Local H concert poster off the stall door. Hello, souvenir. I left and found a spot on the floor to keep my sweatshirt, hoping it would still be there by the end of the night.
At 9:30, the opening band came on stage. Lions, they called themselves. Tough crowd they were playing to. Everyone crowded around but seemingly refused to move for them. They had a decent sound, though it was nothing really mind blowing. Their drummer was pretty decent. But to me, the band is summed up by their bassist. The dude looked EXACTLY like the Interrupter from the Conan O'Brien sketch. To the tee. Even the sick mustache was nearly identical. It was eerie.
Lions end their set, mercifully. It was waiting the extra 30 minutes for Scott and Brian to come on that I begin to wonder if this was going to be a waste. I came to jump and yell and it looked like the crowd was going to stand completely still. Why come to a concert just to watch?
But the H finally take the stage. They open with a song off the new album. Now, I had pre-ordered the album from Amazon a day before it's release and was fully expecting to be able to recognize the new songs when they played the new ones. Alas, I still do not have the new CD in my hands, and that pisses me off. So all their new tracks (they played about 5 of them) were completely new to me. However, if from what I heard last night is any indication at all, especially the opening song, I'm going to fucking love it. But that's no surprise.
The first two songs, both new ones but I recognize the second one as "Michelle" from the band's MySpace, were tight but it didn't look like the band was fully engaged. The crowd was also a little stiff. But all that changed with the band's third song. It certainly loosened up the band, the crowd, and definitely me. On the drive down, I gave As Good As Dead a listen, and fully remember thinking to the point of actually saying out loud "Man, I hope they play this song tonight". The song I was referencing was "I Saw What You Did, And I Know Who You Are". And the band followed through. That brought a large cheer from me.
The rest of the setlist featured the band's go-to concert tracks. "All Right (Oh Yeah)", "Hands on the Bible", "How's the Weather Down There?", "All the Kids Are Right". For retrospect, they played "Mayonaise and Malaise", which sounded absolutely incredible live. The point that really sent the venue into the stratosphere was their fifth song of the set, "California Songs". Naturally, that's the song that nearly everyone in the club knew, so it was the quintessential singalong.
Funny thing about "California Songs". It has the lean verse before jumping into a loud and brash chorus. A small mosh pit got going during this song, but only during the chorus. During the verse everyone would stop moshing. Apparently not everyone paid attention to this pattern. Some guy had a beer in his hand and was trying to get to the front of the crowd at a "calm" part of the verse. Knowing the chorus was coming up, I knew someone was going to be wearing a beer. Sure enough, Scott starts wailing away and the kid gets nailed by a mosher. Beer goes flying.
During one of their new songs, again, the small mosh pit got going. I decided to steer clear of it as my back had been hurting. But I was still close enough to it. And everyone who's been to a rock concert knows the protocol when it comes to the people near the pit. You catch or stop people coming near you and help those up who fall. The girl in front of me, not moshing but right next to the pit, gets knocked back by the pit. So I put my hands up and I stop her from falling. I could tell right away she thought I was trying to cop a feel. So I was expecting the look back in digust and/or her moving somewhere else. She looks back alright, but with a very coy smile. Sweet. She then turns to who I could only assume was her boyfriend and says something. But I don't fear. God, I could've destroyed that kid if he wanted to try it. And I can't say that about a lot of people, so imagine how much of a pansy this guy must've been.
Anyway, the band closes out the set with a 10 minute version of "HFMF" which began with a 4 minute intro consisting of Scott Lucas stepping down from the stage and onto the floor to riff out a great intro. He followed that up by blasting distortion while he took a girl's camera to take pictures of Brian and the crowd. He pocketed the camera and began the song, which is downright sensational live. At the bridge, he took one last shot of himself before offering the camera back to the girl. Fuckin' righteous.
The encore comes, and they probably left the crowd abated a bit too long as the encore chant was beginning to lose steam after a couple minutes. But Scott and Brian return, and people begin to yell out songs. I myself yelled out "Payback is a Mother", but that went unheeded. After one suggestion, Scott says "If there is a God, I would pray to him every day that there be one concert that I play at or go to where some jerk in the audience doesn't yell 'Free Bird'." He then proceeded to explain how their roadmate's, the aformentioned Lions, have a strange obsession with marshmallows. After engaging the crowd a bit, he begins to play a distorted opening to "Stairway to Heaven" and even sings the first couple words before he stops, ensuing it all in jest.
The encore began with another new song, equally as good. It jumped into an interesting rendition of CCR's "Bad Moon Rising". The next song blew my mind, which was a combined song, leading off with "Bound For the Floor" before transforming into "25 or 6 to 4", ultimately transforming back into the ending to "Bound For the Floor". Freaking awesome. They capped off the night with their famous by now, I'm sure, cover of "Wolf Like Me". Before sending the crowd off, they did an altered version of Cheap Trick's "Hello There" into more of a "good night" themed send off.
The feeling of my eardrums erupting was a familiar feeling, and one I cared so little about. As I neared the exit, I got in line to get the H's merch table to have Scott and Brian sign the poster I ganked from the bathroom, but realized that it was going to take far too long. That, and I was still nervous about my car. Seeing that it had not been towed, I put in Hamfisted, sat for a minute to collect the experience in my head, then took off.
I once read in an article that, according to the reporter's (bullshit) opinion, CDs are only promotional tools used to get people to come out to their shows. I disagree with that statement, but I will take a little solace in it. There are some bands who once you hear on record, you get the sudden urge to see them live. Needless to say, Local H is one of those bands. I had read countless reviews and heard such great things about their live shows. And they all did them due justice, living up to the hype I read about. I'm sure they just sold me forever, as I'm sure I'll make every effort to catch them every single time they stop in New England now. Once is not enough.
Scratch #17 off The List