to catch a killer (mwuhahaha that was awful)
The number of men in their sixties whom I'd still totally do has increased. Happy birthday to you, Robert bb.
Alrighty so, Killers fans are called Victims (lols.) But seeing as Crue and I chased them, the two of us are more some sort of policewomen officers, detectives or similar. And I shall relate the saga of Sunday night, because it was somewhat fabulous.
The concert itself was fantastic as well, much better than last year, mostly because Réka was there, I had no near death experiences, I could breathe, and imho the set list was more aptly arranged. Once you've written an anthem that probably makes Bono really jealous, like "All These Things That I've Done," you can't not end a concert with it. All B-Flo said during the entire show was, "Hello, we are The Killers, and we're at your service tonight," to which our instantaneous reaction was, "Yeah, Brandon can service me anytime." He may have talked more, but I can't really remember, there was some vodka-Coke we had to dispose of, but really just enough to keep us warm.
But isn't it telling that while last year, all hairy and serious, he waxed lyrical about landscapes, and now it's back to being pretty and flirty? Yay, I say.
It ended around 11pm, as always. I found Zsófi and then we went to see José González. The wan2 tent was packed, omg. When that was over, we were about to go and see Sziámi, but then Zsófi talked to Crue & Ildi on the phone, and we decided to join them at the main stage backstage fence. There were several people sitting around, Zsófi didn't believe they'd get anything. Neither did I. Eventually people began to flit away, except for Crue, who was talking to the security guards. I didn't really have anything better to do, so I stayed, peeking through the holes in the plastic foil covering the fence, at the huge shiny tour buses. Crue got very friendly with the guards in the end, one gave her a cigarette, and they let her use one of the Portaloos inside. Her original plan was to wait for the buses to leave, run after them and hope they'll stop. On Thursday she'd chased the Kaiser Chiefs' van, and they stopped. She's quite the determined sort :D
After a while she left the secs and asked me if we should try and see whether we could get into the Szeparé. The Szeparé, Séparé, if you like, is a closed-off area right next to the main stage, an open-air bar/lounge kinda thing for the lucky few. Now, Crue had a special wristband. Not an ordinary weekly camper's, like mine, but one that says VIP/Staff/Crew, and is higher up on the ladder. These things are rare, and I don't know how you can get them, but it's not impossible if you know someone who knows someone who... So she got one of these from her friend Marci. It's still nothing like a backstage pass, just a wristband. We walked over to that entrance, and she asked the guard if she could enter the Szeparé with said wristband. The guy, to my great surprise, smiled kindly and said yes. I still suspect it might have just been because we looked harmless and it was the last night of the festival, not because the wristband entitles you to it. Still, I thought this was it for me, Crue alone would go in and see if she can find something. The guard asked if I had a staff/crew wristband as well. Crue just took my arm and said, "She's with me." And we were let in. Tables. Chairs. Drinks. Nerves. Lots of them. Crue: "Alright, let's go and have a look around, maybe they're here." Me: "Yeah, wow, we're in and things, wow... ....wait. That's Dave! THAT'S DAVE!" We'd just walked past someone with a sick amount of big curly hair, and sure as fuck it was him. He was busy pulling a platinum blonde chick. When we turned around, Mark was also there, towering above and talking to some people (his lips were moving. I didn't hear it. I've never heard him talk.) We hesitated a bit (=two seconds), then agreed that "omg hell yes chance of a lifetime krkgkfdkhh!" Crue had the Sam's Town booklet and a big black marker with her, I just had a sheet of paper and a pen. When we approached Dave, we couldn't even get past "Would you..." and he was signing our things. He was completely wasted in classic Dave fashion. After he'd signed my piece of paper with my pen, he started leafing through Crue's booklet, settling on the page with a picture of them all hovering in the air, and wanted to sign that with my pen as well, even though Crue was trying to give him the marker. He was really focused on that pen. I had to take it out of his hand (niiice hands btw), and then he noticed the marker. He scribbled across the page, then suddenly leaned into my face, "THAT'S MY FULL NAME! DAVE KEUNING!" I thought, "Yeah, bb, I know..." but the nerves supressed the lulz-waves and I just gabbled a mix of "greatlovelyfantasticthankyousomuch" and patted him on the shoulder a bit. He was so gone. It must be difficult being in a band with two teetotallers, you are compelled to compensate for their truly unrockstarly lack of substance abuse XD
We went over to Mark. Sooooo amazingly tall. I mean, normal, I didn't expect any different, it's just that I scarcely meet people who have quite a few inches on me. TBH I really like him. He's put down a few nifty bass lines, and I don't think he looks like a mountain shepherd. He reminds me of my cousins, especially Dani. Except Dani has more than one facial expression. Mark signed our things without a word, it felt like going to a professor at uni to get an exam grade, what with him looking really academic and serious in a black suit. (Dave was in skinnies and a sequinned black top. Hee.) We only just glimpsed Ronnie walking past. Brandon was nowhere to be seen, good Mormon boys don't party late. We mourned not having a camera (fuck if this had been last year), but a kinda professional-looking girl, who had been photographing Dave and the blonde, even snapped one with us and him, only she didn't tell us when/if the pictures would ever be published anywhere, she basically told us to GTFO. Bitch.
Soon Mark and Dave started leaving as well, we followed them, but they were going to another part of the backstage area with yet another security check, so we just turned back towards the Szeparé. We heard Dave let out an inarticulate roar. If you ever thought this band isn't about the lulz, think again.
"Let's try to look really VIP." "We are soooo VIP." All the time in there I was wondering just how illegal exactly I was. Then we got out, because we realised they'd left to board the buses. We went back to the backstage entrance, and three huge double-deckers rolled out. They had to go really slowly because of stray people wandering all over the place, so we could comfortably walk next to them. Fortunately, the blinds weren't shut in the first bus, and that's where they were. We smiled and waved like idiots, and bang, Teh Brandon Flowers grinned and waved back. OMG Brandiiinnnn what is it about you? He almost didn't seem real. He was wearing the same green shirt you can see on the cover of this week's NME. They gathered speed, we kept up, the driver started honking at us. When they nearly slowed to a stop, we walked up to him. He asked us to stop following because he'd nearly run us over twice and it's dangerous, la la la, but Crue just went on about how she'd like to meet the band. Guurrrrrl. Sadly, we were passing another security guard just standing by, and suddenly he grabbed us both and pulled us back, and the buses left. But we just crossed the road, into a shadier place, and then ran to catch up. The buses could have been about 5-600m ahead of us, and it was such a sprint, Usain Bolt has nothing on us. I nearly threw up. All the while, "Supermassive Black Hole" was playing from a nearby place, probably the MR2 stage DJ set, I had no idea where we were by then. Eventually we caught up. On the other side now, I knocked on the window. Mark was there, his back to us, lying on his side, casually propped up on one elbow. With a tiny side glance, he knocked back. I knocked again, he knocked back again. It was hilarious. They didn't bother to stop, though, and we reached a vehicles-only area near the exit, so we had to let them go. And that's the story of our epic Killer hunt.
I honestly didn't believe I'd ever ever get lucky enough to meet, you know, ~*~rock starz~*~ LOLOLOL.
Alrighty so, Killers fans are called Victims (lols.) But seeing as Crue and I chased them, the two of us are more some sort of policewomen officers, detectives or similar. And I shall relate the saga of Sunday night, because it was somewhat fabulous.
The concert itself was fantastic as well, much better than last year, mostly because Réka was there, I had no near death experiences, I could breathe, and imho the set list was more aptly arranged. Once you've written an anthem that probably makes Bono really jealous, like "All These Things That I've Done," you can't not end a concert with it. All B-Flo said during the entire show was, "Hello, we are The Killers, and we're at your service tonight," to which our instantaneous reaction was, "Yeah, Brandon can service me anytime." He may have talked more, but I can't really remember, there was some vodka-Coke we had to dispose of, but really just enough to keep us warm.
But isn't it telling that while last year, all hairy and serious, he waxed lyrical about landscapes, and now it's back to being pretty and flirty? Yay, I say.
It ended around 11pm, as always. I found Zsófi and then we went to see José González. The wan2 tent was packed, omg. When that was over, we were about to go and see Sziámi, but then Zsófi talked to Crue & Ildi on the phone, and we decided to join them at the main stage backstage fence. There were several people sitting around, Zsófi didn't believe they'd get anything. Neither did I. Eventually people began to flit away, except for Crue, who was talking to the security guards. I didn't really have anything better to do, so I stayed, peeking through the holes in the plastic foil covering the fence, at the huge shiny tour buses. Crue got very friendly with the guards in the end, one gave her a cigarette, and they let her use one of the Portaloos inside. Her original plan was to wait for the buses to leave, run after them and hope they'll stop. On Thursday she'd chased the Kaiser Chiefs' van, and they stopped. She's quite the determined sort :D
After a while she left the secs and asked me if we should try and see whether we could get into the Szeparé. The Szeparé, Séparé, if you like, is a closed-off area right next to the main stage, an open-air bar/lounge kinda thing for the lucky few. Now, Crue had a special wristband. Not an ordinary weekly camper's, like mine, but one that says VIP/Staff/Crew, and is higher up on the ladder. These things are rare, and I don't know how you can get them, but it's not impossible if you know someone who knows someone who... So she got one of these from her friend Marci. It's still nothing like a backstage pass, just a wristband. We walked over to that entrance, and she asked the guard if she could enter the Szeparé with said wristband. The guy, to my great surprise, smiled kindly and said yes. I still suspect it might have just been because we looked harmless and it was the last night of the festival, not because the wristband entitles you to it. Still, I thought this was it for me, Crue alone would go in and see if she can find something. The guard asked if I had a staff/crew wristband as well. Crue just took my arm and said, "She's with me." And we were let in. Tables. Chairs. Drinks. Nerves. Lots of them. Crue: "Alright, let's go and have a look around, maybe they're here." Me: "Yeah, wow, we're in and things, wow... ....wait. That's Dave! THAT'S DAVE!" We'd just walked past someone with a sick amount of big curly hair, and sure as fuck it was him. He was busy pulling a platinum blonde chick. When we turned around, Mark was also there, towering above and talking to some people (his lips were moving. I didn't hear it. I've never heard him talk.) We hesitated a bit (=two seconds), then agreed that "omg hell yes chance of a lifetime krkgkfdkhh!" Crue had the Sam's Town booklet and a big black marker with her, I just had a sheet of paper and a pen. When we approached Dave, we couldn't even get past "Would you..." and he was signing our things. He was completely wasted in classic Dave fashion. After he'd signed my piece of paper with my pen, he started leafing through Crue's booklet, settling on the page with a picture of them all hovering in the air, and wanted to sign that with my pen as well, even though Crue was trying to give him the marker. He was really focused on that pen. I had to take it out of his hand (niiice hands btw), and then he noticed the marker. He scribbled across the page, then suddenly leaned into my face, "THAT'S MY FULL NAME! DAVE KEUNING!" I thought, "Yeah, bb, I know..." but the nerves supressed the lulz-waves and I just gabbled a mix of "greatlovelyfantasticthankyousomuch" and patted him on the shoulder a bit. He was so gone. It must be difficult being in a band with two teetotallers, you are compelled to compensate for their truly unrockstarly lack of substance abuse XD
We went over to Mark. Sooooo amazingly tall. I mean, normal, I didn't expect any different, it's just that I scarcely meet people who have quite a few inches on me. TBH I really like him. He's put down a few nifty bass lines, and I don't think he looks like a mountain shepherd. He reminds me of my cousins, especially Dani. Except Dani has more than one facial expression. Mark signed our things without a word, it felt like going to a professor at uni to get an exam grade, what with him looking really academic and serious in a black suit. (Dave was in skinnies and a sequinned black top. Hee.) We only just glimpsed Ronnie walking past. Brandon was nowhere to be seen, good Mormon boys don't party late. We mourned not having a camera (fuck if this had been last year), but a kinda professional-looking girl, who had been photographing Dave and the blonde, even snapped one with us and him, only she didn't tell us when/if the pictures would ever be published anywhere, she basically told us to GTFO. Bitch.
Soon Mark and Dave started leaving as well, we followed them, but they were going to another part of the backstage area with yet another security check, so we just turned back towards the Szeparé. We heard Dave let out an inarticulate roar. If you ever thought this band isn't about the lulz, think again.
"Let's try to look really VIP." "We are soooo VIP." All the time in there I was wondering just how illegal exactly I was. Then we got out, because we realised they'd left to board the buses. We went back to the backstage entrance, and three huge double-deckers rolled out. They had to go really slowly because of stray people wandering all over the place, so we could comfortably walk next to them. Fortunately, the blinds weren't shut in the first bus, and that's where they were. We smiled and waved like idiots, and bang, Teh Brandon Flowers grinned and waved back. OMG Brandiiinnnn what is it about you? He almost didn't seem real. He was wearing the same green shirt you can see on the cover of this week's NME. They gathered speed, we kept up, the driver started honking at us. When they nearly slowed to a stop, we walked up to him. He asked us to stop following because he'd nearly run us over twice and it's dangerous, la la la, but Crue just went on about how she'd like to meet the band. Guurrrrrl. Sadly, we were passing another security guard just standing by, and suddenly he grabbed us both and pulled us back, and the buses left. But we just crossed the road, into a shadier place, and then ran to catch up. The buses could have been about 5-600m ahead of us, and it was such a sprint, Usain Bolt has nothing on us. I nearly threw up. All the while, "Supermassive Black Hole" was playing from a nearby place, probably the MR2 stage DJ set, I had no idea where we were by then. Eventually we caught up. On the other side now, I knocked on the window. Mark was there, his back to us, lying on his side, casually propped up on one elbow. With a tiny side glance, he knocked back. I knocked again, he knocked back again. It was hilarious. They didn't bother to stop, though, and we reached a vehicles-only area near the exit, so we had to let them go. And that's the story of our epic Killer hunt.
I honestly didn't believe I'd ever ever get lucky enough to meet, you know, ~*~rock starz~*~ LOLOLOL.