Theory of a Deadman (Review and Rant Re: Crowd)--
So a couple days ago I decided that even though I work late, I had more than enough time to take advantage of the free-with-admission rock show at the Stampede yesterday (Monday) night. Besides, Theory of a Deadman was playing and I've never seen them live, despite the fact that they hit town on a pretty regular basis.
"More than enough time" is a relative term, in that I got down to the grounds with 45 minutes to spare before Theory hit stage, but this meant I missed the first 15-20 minutes of the opening act, who hadn't been listed in the program and of whom I've never before heard (Tupelo Honey), yet have obviously heard before. They were pretty good, although most of their set was lost in a shouted cell phone conversation with a friend of mine, S (who had consented to meet me there), that consisted of, "Where are you? ...What? ...What part of the stage? ...Can you hear me? ...You what?" before I stumbled upon her and we began staking out a good place to stand.
Overall, the music was good. Theory of a Deadman was actually remarkably close to how they sound on CD, apart from the reverb and the complete tunelessness of the audience when they sang along. (Seriously, it was the most unmelodic audience I've ever heard -- it wasn't even pleasantly out of tune, it was just... argh.) And from what I could see of their stage performance (not a lot), they put on a good show. They played a pretty heavy chunk of both albums, well-balanced between both, and threw in a smattering of chatter that was entertaining and engaging without being overlong or overbearing. They encouraged a bit of audience participation, too, which I would have enjoyed much more if it wasn't for, well, the audience.
To put it succinctly, I honestly never thought I'd find myself turning to S to say, "I'm too old for this part of this shit." *facepalm*
The Coke Stage is Standing Room Only (as it's outside in front of a patch of grass crisscrossed with walkways that lead to various exhibits, buildings, and the Midway), and S pointed out that in a completely baffling piece of architecture and landscaping, the ground slopes gently away from the stage instead of towards it, which means the further you are away, the lower down you are. This, of course, lends itself to making things as difficult as possible for the short among us.
I mean, is there a law or something that says that tall people must stand directly in front of short people at all times? And that they won't even have the decency to take note that they're blocking someone's view? Seriously, at best I was sort of able to catch glimpses of Theory through holes that would open and close as people shifted back and forth, leaving me less than impressed. Although I did get some small satisfaction from the mosquito that landed on one of the tall guys and spent 20 minutes sucking him dry. HA! Take that, mobile wall!
Of course, the wall of bodies was not as bad as the "push" sign I was apparently wearing, as I got shoved and prodded and poked by a whole whack of people for the duration of the concert. And we're not talking "brushed by"; we're talking full on shoving out of the way. Jerks. And they always went for the short women. I guess nobody wants to shove tall, burly guys out of the way. Oh, and of course everyone was all gross and sweaty (and smoking) while they pushed, which... Ugh. I wanted to go home and scrub myself down, which eventually was exactly what I did.
Of course, this was not as bad as the guy I was ready to clock. Towards the middle of the concert, S and I shifted (again) so we could see marginally better, and this guy in a peach shirt and cowboy hat that was about an arm's length from me clapped his hand down very firmly and very deliberately on my shoulder, saying something I couldn't make out over the music. I grabbed his arm and, in a rather exaggerated motion, threw it off while glaring at him. He said something else to me that I didn't understand, but which ended in "bitch," which is when I turned to him and growled, "Why don't you just fuck off?" (I'm 99% certain my enunciation was clearer than his and that I made my point.)
Some guy was passing between myself and the offensive jerk as I said that, and the newcomer looked a bit surprised and said, "Oh! I hope you don't mean me!" I told him no, no, not at all, and he grinned and continued on his way.
But for at least 15-20 minutes afterward I was a bit spooked and ready to whack the jerk with whatever was handy (a half-full water bottle or my duckhead umbrella -- it's very cute: yellow with big painted on eyes, and an orange bill that extends out from the umbrella itself, giving a tiny bit more coverage -- although I imagine it'd hurt rammed in your gut, cute or not) should he try again. I don't know WTF gave him the idea that he could do that, although I suspect some level of male privilege at work, the asshole! (After all, how often do guys resort to "Bitch!" when you turn them down or otherwise make it clear you're not interested/they're behaving inappropriately? ...My apologies to the very kind young men on my Flist -- I'm talking about men without respect for other people, not men in general.)
Sadly, these things (and the flying objects that became more and more frequent as the concert wore on) really detracted from the rest of the performance. The Coke Stage just isn't as well-managed as the floor at enclosed, ticketed performances, so as the crowd got rowdier, there weren't really enough security guards to step in and contain the situation, let alone spot problems as they arose. I tried very hard to concentrate on the music and the infrequent glimpses of the band, but it was difficult to do so at best.
Theory did their damnest to put on a good show, however, and they were clearly having a good time, which did salvage the situation enough so that I can chalk it up as "an experience" rather than "a godawful travesty," and they finished their set with my second favourite song to write pr0n to: "No Surprise," which was a grand surprise.
Sadly, what it comes down to is I'm just far, far too old for the shit that takes place in the crush of the crowd. How strange that one gets fed up with it so early on in life. ^_~
So, basically, the concert was good, but the crowd was not. I'm not going to let this stop me from attending Stampede concerts, but next time we stand back from the crowd, regardless of how far back that is. Sheesh.
Ok, I'm tired. I'm making minor progress on catching up with a few things, but I'm still far, far behind. *sigh* Going to go crawl into bed now. My continual apologies.
"More than enough time" is a relative term, in that I got down to the grounds with 45 minutes to spare before Theory hit stage, but this meant I missed the first 15-20 minutes of the opening act, who hadn't been listed in the program and of whom I've never before heard (Tupelo Honey), yet have obviously heard before. They were pretty good, although most of their set was lost in a shouted cell phone conversation with a friend of mine, S (who had consented to meet me there), that consisted of, "Where are you? ...What? ...What part of the stage? ...Can you hear me? ...You what?" before I stumbled upon her and we began staking out a good place to stand.
Overall, the music was good. Theory of a Deadman was actually remarkably close to how they sound on CD, apart from the reverb and the complete tunelessness of the audience when they sang along. (Seriously, it was the most unmelodic audience I've ever heard -- it wasn't even pleasantly out of tune, it was just... argh.) And from what I could see of their stage performance (not a lot), they put on a good show. They played a pretty heavy chunk of both albums, well-balanced between both, and threw in a smattering of chatter that was entertaining and engaging without being overlong or overbearing. They encouraged a bit of audience participation, too, which I would have enjoyed much more if it wasn't for, well, the audience.
To put it succinctly, I honestly never thought I'd find myself turning to S to say, "I'm too old for this part of this shit." *facepalm*
The Coke Stage is Standing Room Only (as it's outside in front of a patch of grass crisscrossed with walkways that lead to various exhibits, buildings, and the Midway), and S pointed out that in a completely baffling piece of architecture and landscaping, the ground slopes gently away from the stage instead of towards it, which means the further you are away, the lower down you are. This, of course, lends itself to making things as difficult as possible for the short among us.
I mean, is there a law or something that says that tall people must stand directly in front of short people at all times? And that they won't even have the decency to take note that they're blocking someone's view? Seriously, at best I was sort of able to catch glimpses of Theory through holes that would open and close as people shifted back and forth, leaving me less than impressed. Although I did get some small satisfaction from the mosquito that landed on one of the tall guys and spent 20 minutes sucking him dry. HA! Take that, mobile wall!
Of course, the wall of bodies was not as bad as the "push" sign I was apparently wearing, as I got shoved and prodded and poked by a whole whack of people for the duration of the concert. And we're not talking "brushed by"; we're talking full on shoving out of the way. Jerks. And they always went for the short women. I guess nobody wants to shove tall, burly guys out of the way. Oh, and of course everyone was all gross and sweaty (and smoking) while they pushed, which... Ugh. I wanted to go home and scrub myself down, which eventually was exactly what I did.
Of course, this was not as bad as the guy I was ready to clock. Towards the middle of the concert, S and I shifted (again) so we could see marginally better, and this guy in a peach shirt and cowboy hat that was about an arm's length from me clapped his hand down very firmly and very deliberately on my shoulder, saying something I couldn't make out over the music. I grabbed his arm and, in a rather exaggerated motion, threw it off while glaring at him. He said something else to me that I didn't understand, but which ended in "bitch," which is when I turned to him and growled, "Why don't you just fuck off?" (I'm 99% certain my enunciation was clearer than his and that I made my point.)
Some guy was passing between myself and the offensive jerk as I said that, and the newcomer looked a bit surprised and said, "Oh! I hope you don't mean me!" I told him no, no, not at all, and he grinned and continued on his way.
But for at least 15-20 minutes afterward I was a bit spooked and ready to whack the jerk with whatever was handy (a half-full water bottle or my duckhead umbrella -- it's very cute: yellow with big painted on eyes, and an orange bill that extends out from the umbrella itself, giving a tiny bit more coverage -- although I imagine it'd hurt rammed in your gut, cute or not) should he try again. I don't know WTF gave him the idea that he could do that, although I suspect some level of male privilege at work, the asshole! (After all, how often do guys resort to "Bitch!" when you turn them down or otherwise make it clear you're not interested/they're behaving inappropriately? ...My apologies to the very kind young men on my Flist -- I'm talking about men without respect for other people, not men in general.)
Sadly, these things (and the flying objects that became more and more frequent as the concert wore on) really detracted from the rest of the performance. The Coke Stage just isn't as well-managed as the floor at enclosed, ticketed performances, so as the crowd got rowdier, there weren't really enough security guards to step in and contain the situation, let alone spot problems as they arose. I tried very hard to concentrate on the music and the infrequent glimpses of the band, but it was difficult to do so at best.
Theory did their damnest to put on a good show, however, and they were clearly having a good time, which did salvage the situation enough so that I can chalk it up as "an experience" rather than "a godawful travesty," and they finished their set with my second favourite song to write pr0n to: "No Surprise," which was a grand surprise.
Sadly, what it comes down to is I'm just far, far too old for the shit that takes place in the crush of the crowd. How strange that one gets fed up with it so early on in life. ^_~
So, basically, the concert was good, but the crowd was not. I'm not going to let this stop me from attending Stampede concerts, but next time we stand back from the crowd, regardless of how far back that is. Sheesh.
Ok, I'm tired. I'm making minor progress on catching up with a few things, but I'm still far, far behind. *sigh* Going to go crawl into bed now. My continual apologies.