RECAP BABY
For the record, I'm starting this at 4:13 p.m. EST. When will I finish it? God only knows.
Got downtown at about 5:20-ish. It was warm enough to wear shorts, gorgeous weather. I honestly wish I'd had a camera to film the line, because it was amazing. The people in front were the REALLY dedicated ones, obviously, all black-bar makeup and shit written all over themselves (I saw a guy with CATHOLIC on his neck. I almost proposed), but almost everyone was wearing a My Chem t-shirt, many of them custom and some of them seriously awesome. It sounds silly, but the creativity of all those people was more than a little inspiring.
Especially the bee hats. But I'll get to them later.
Anyways, we chilled in line for an hour making up stories about the surrounding buildings- a rusting metal cabinet on the side of a building, held shut with dead ivy, had held someone trapped for years; the well beneath it was a bottomless pit- and, in my case, avoiding talking about prom. It was an interesting enough hour, but during it, I apparently managed to skillfully avoid running into
thelemic,
restriction,
shrift, or any of a billion other cool and fascinating people reportedly in the line.
You might think I was just (un)lucky enough to miss out on the potential awesome, but I'm pretty sure skill was involved. Which is to say, my skill at failing hard. There is a whole story behind that particular ninja-honed talent, but now is probably not the time. It's enough to say that eventually the line moved, the enormously clogged sidewalk cleared, and the concert had, in my head, just begun.
First, I just have to say that the Fillmore is an amazing venue. It's a beautiful old theater, all gilding and carving and statuary, and whenever I was bored between sets I could just stare at the detailing all around. Even on the ceiling; there are chandeliers, for fuck's sake.
Like I said, beautiful. And I had General Admission, which translated to the teeny tiny pit, smaller than some club shows I've been to, that the orchestra would set up in during that sort of show. Having only been in line an hour, we ended up maybe ten-twelve rows back; we would have been closer if we'd gone for house right, but I had a not-so-secret wish to be on the Frank and Mikey side of the stage (and it paid off, oh yes). I ended up just behind a guy with blue hair, a lip piercing, platform boots, and a Dark Knight t-shirt. Unsurprisingly, we struck it off pretty well, and he turned out to be a genuinely nice person who helped a complete stranger out of the pit when she looked close to fainting. Through the Brownian Motion theory of moshpits I ended up running into him (yes, sometimes literally) a few more times, which was rather nice.
Drive By! I probably wouldn't have really noticed them starting if two girls to my rear left hadn't made the werewolf-switch from fangirls to ravening beasts; one of them lunged at my back and, um, ground up against it repeatedly. It was kind of awkward, particularly since she wasn't hot at all, and appeared to be maybe fourteen. The rest of their set was alright, but nothing special; the music was neutral, the lead singer not particularly charismatic, and they namedropped My Chem for cheers enough times that it was a little pathetic. So it goes.
Billy Talent, however, was an entirely different animal. They reminded me a bit of a cross between early My Chem and Mindless Self Indulgence; a little metal, a little hardcore, and a lot of high-pitched vocals and moshing. I actually got battered a bit at first because the center of the pit was suddenly full of these huge, burly men eager to mosh and elbow my short friends in the neck. So we eeled our way off to the left, choosing a strategic location close to the Future Frank Microphone, and had a marginally better time; it was still distractingly rough, and I'm pretty sure that's where most of my bruises come from, but the music was good.
I also ran into Blue-Haired Kid a.k.a. J again when I moved left. Was he also Frank-minded and sneaky like us? I have no idea! But I MAY YET FIND OUT. Details later in this post!
My Cheeeeeeem. They took their sweet fucking time getting onstage, though. We ended up screaming for every lighting test, sound check, and rising/falling curtain just to release the adrenaline (and oh, there was adrenaline. As soon as the first song kicked in I was feeling NO pain). Their entrance reminded me quite a bit of what Linkin Park did for Projekt Rev; billowy curtain which turned transparent under the dramatic flashes of light. Part of me was like GERARD, YOU TEASE, but most of me thought it was pretty awesome.
They kicked off with Sleep, which is just- it's a killer live song, guys, absolutely fantastic. You can feel all the emotion in the lyrics and in the music, it's like a wave of raw power. And even though I'd expected a horrible surge, the crowd was... not docile, but practically polite. After the first couple of songs, I was never shoved, squished, or banged around more than I could handle. This band will save, not just your life, but also your ribcage.
After that, I lose track of what order the songs were in, at least for the middle section.
thelemichas a better grasp of the order than I do in his recap. I can, however, give some rather priceless highlights.
- The Ghost of You was introduced as "A hand-wavy song! Or a lighter-lighting song, or cellphone-waving song, I don't know," at which everyone dutifully pulled out something light-up, and then as "and we almost drowned during the music video," at which half of the crowd started screaming like banshees. Myself included, because seriously, The Ghost of You! Ugh, so amazing.
- Cemetery Drive. My personal favorite song, and one that I had no expectation of hearing at this show, so when it started playing I honest-to-god swooned for a minute before going completely nuts. I have this thing for that song that would take an entire post to explain, so suffice to say that it meant the world to me, and I will never ever forget hearing it live like that, so very close.
- Headfirst for Halos! I'm not going to lie, I would have loved to hear Honey (or, for that matter, Vampires), but hearing anything from Bullets was nothing short of an honor. Also, Frank rocked out and threw himself around like a crazy motherfucker, I think he was having a flashback to his old days of dreads and hardcore screaming.
- Teenagers, and Gerard declared that they were bringing out "some friends" to play along. Another band? No, it was a tech guy with a harmonica, and a bandana wrapped around his head hippie-style. I have no clue, but he was pretty enthusiastic, and I would love to hear the story behind that one.
- I'm Not Okay is the ultimate summer jam! Somehow, I feel like I've heard that line before. It has to be hard to think up ways to hype your best-known song, I imagine.
There were some non-music-related Good Times thrown in there, as well. (All photos taken by
shnooker_doo13.)
GERARD IS A PRETTY LADY. His hair was actually unbelievably fluffy and clean when he first got out, it was pretty shocking while it lasted (not long). For each of the band members, there was a moment when it clicked that I was looking at a real person twenty feet away and not, like, a singing dancing action figure or someone on a screen; for Gerard, it was the wedding ring and his belt buckle. I was close enough to see the stitching on his jeans, and somehow that made it real.
I'm still not sure that Mikeyway is real, if only because he's made of pure, head-banging, bass-fucking sex god. Although again, what made him real was suddenly catching a glimpse of the tattoo on his left wrist; that, and an actual look at the famous spacepiratehooker boots. But. SEX GOD. I stared at him so much that it was probably rude, but it was a strange case of being actually physically attracted to him within the first five seconds of seeing him.
Fraaaaank! Tiny and awesome and hardcore. That's a Drive By hoodie he was wearing, it was available at the merch booth; when he took it off I could see an adorable Godzilla t-shirt, the two neck tattoos (the Moment of Realization), and possibly a finished sleeve on his right arm. It really looked like it, and I was pretty close, but no-one else can confirm or deny and I'm not 100% confident. There appeared to be a face near the outside of his elbow, and possibly some words. Or birds, even. What you can't see in this picture is that he was wearing cutoff jeans that were too short for Frank and exposed his ankles and tiny white socks. N'aww. *grins*
SO. During I'm Not Okay Gerard did this... shimmy wiggle belly-dancer sort of thing with his hips and I was momentarily distracted from everything else ON THE PLANET, including breathing. The man has better hips than any woman I've ever met, god. Unfortunately, in a pit, distraction equals taking an elbow hard to the ribs. I SUFFER FOR MY LOVE, etc.
And the bee hats! Okay, so there were these people- I saw them in line- wearing things like yellow felt helmets with black bee-stripes, eyes, and curly antennae, and they said "You give us a great buzz!" on the back in green marker. Basically they were adorable, and someone threw one up to Gerard, prompting him to go all flaily and admit that he'd totally wanted one when he saw them in line even though he never wanted anything people threw to him! Except for drawings (draaaawrings). "It just gets too hot for boas nowadays, you know? You should totally wear it, though, it looks cute."
Frank leaned in to tell Gerard that he also wouldn't mind if anyone tossed up a MacBook Pro. Nice try, honey. Frank was also playing little solo interludes between each song that were pretty sweet, I think.
Oh! At one point Gerard and Mikey were backstage during an interlude, leaning in really close to each other and talking. And if that's not daring enough for you, during another song Gerard gave Mikey this sort of shoulder grab and neck caress combo while making his This Is Inappropriate, Pay Attention face. It doesn't compare to the chest-licking of days past, but it made me happy. Mmm.
So they finished up with a piano-and-Gerard version of Cancer, then came back for the encore with Desert Song (Ray acoustic, Frank on the floor, Mikey backstage guzzling orange Gatorade and chatting with a sound guy, which I had a perfect view of), followed by Give 'Em Hell, Kid, and ended for real with Helena; "If you've heard one song of ours, it's probably this one," and Gerard sounded kind of proud when he said it. By that point I had worked my way from eighth-row in front of Frank to fourth row in front of Mikey; perfect view, insanely close. It was full-on, arms waving and fists pumping and the crowd living up every last second. Memorable, absolutely.
Ran into Blue-Haired Kid a.k.a. J again. Made further inept attempts at flirting, somewhat hindered by the fact that I KNEW I was sweaty and disgusting, although he was obviously in the same state. I couldn't have done too badly, though, because he did ask for my number (and those of my friends, to be fair). I didn't give it to him, but I did give him my AIM screenname, and if he messages me? I'll just give him the damned cell number. Life is too short. I also turned around, ran back, and gave him a hug, so, yeah. It was probably just a friendship thing, but go me! anyways.
Bought the MIKEY FUCKIN WAY shirt. I didn't really have a choice, since I've developed a possibly unhealthy fixation on the thing after seeing it on its namesake. I can never wear it to school, but oh, it is love.
In order of album, the complete setlist was Headfirst for Halos, Helena, Give 'Em Hell, Kid, You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison, I'm Not Okay (I Promise), The Ghost of You, [possibly Thank You For The Venom, although I don't remember it], Hang 'Em High, Cemetery Drive, Dead!, This Is How I Disappear, Welcome To The Black Parade, I Don't Love You, House Of Wolves, Cancer, Mama, Sleep, Teenagers, and Famous Last Words, as well as Heaven Help Us, My Way Home Is Through You, and Desert Song. Kickass, seriously, I don't know how you could beat that.
And thus concludes the Epic Recap of Doom. End time: 7:49 p.m. Thank god.
Got downtown at about 5:20-ish. It was warm enough to wear shorts, gorgeous weather. I honestly wish I'd had a camera to film the line, because it was amazing. The people in front were the REALLY dedicated ones, obviously, all black-bar makeup and shit written all over themselves (I saw a guy with CATHOLIC on his neck. I almost proposed), but almost everyone was wearing a My Chem t-shirt, many of them custom and some of them seriously awesome. It sounds silly, but the creativity of all those people was more than a little inspiring.
Especially the bee hats. But I'll get to them later.
Anyways, we chilled in line for an hour making up stories about the surrounding buildings- a rusting metal cabinet on the side of a building, held shut with dead ivy, had held someone trapped for years; the well beneath it was a bottomless pit- and, in my case, avoiding talking about prom. It was an interesting enough hour, but during it, I apparently managed to skillfully avoid running into
thelemic,
restriction,
shrift, or any of a billion other cool and fascinating people reportedly in the line.
You might think I was just (un)lucky enough to miss out on the potential awesome, but I'm pretty sure skill was involved. Which is to say, my skill at failing hard. There is a whole story behind that particular ninja-honed talent, but now is probably not the time. It's enough to say that eventually the line moved, the enormously clogged sidewalk cleared, and the concert had, in my head, just begun.
First, I just have to say that the Fillmore is an amazing venue. It's a beautiful old theater, all gilding and carving and statuary, and whenever I was bored between sets I could just stare at the detailing all around. Even on the ceiling; there are chandeliers, for fuck's sake.
Like I said, beautiful. And I had General Admission, which translated to the teeny tiny pit, smaller than some club shows I've been to, that the orchestra would set up in during that sort of show. Having only been in line an hour, we ended up maybe ten-twelve rows back; we would have been closer if we'd gone for house right, but I had a not-so-secret wish to be on the Frank and Mikey side of the stage (and it paid off, oh yes). I ended up just behind a guy with blue hair, a lip piercing, platform boots, and a Dark Knight t-shirt. Unsurprisingly, we struck it off pretty well, and he turned out to be a genuinely nice person who helped a complete stranger out of the pit when she looked close to fainting. Through the Brownian Motion theory of moshpits I ended up running into him (yes, sometimes literally) a few more times, which was rather nice.
Drive By! I probably wouldn't have really noticed them starting if two girls to my rear left hadn't made the werewolf-switch from fangirls to ravening beasts; one of them lunged at my back and, um, ground up against it repeatedly. It was kind of awkward, particularly since she wasn't hot at all, and appeared to be maybe fourteen. The rest of their set was alright, but nothing special; the music was neutral, the lead singer not particularly charismatic, and they namedropped My Chem for cheers enough times that it was a little pathetic. So it goes.
Billy Talent, however, was an entirely different animal. They reminded me a bit of a cross between early My Chem and Mindless Self Indulgence; a little metal, a little hardcore, and a lot of high-pitched vocals and moshing. I actually got battered a bit at first because the center of the pit was suddenly full of these huge, burly men eager to mosh and elbow my short friends in the neck. So we eeled our way off to the left, choosing a strategic location close to the Future Frank Microphone, and had a marginally better time; it was still distractingly rough, and I'm pretty sure that's where most of my bruises come from, but the music was good.
I also ran into Blue-Haired Kid a.k.a. J again when I moved left. Was he also Frank-minded and sneaky like us? I have no idea! But I MAY YET FIND OUT. Details later in this post!
My Cheeeeeeem. They took their sweet fucking time getting onstage, though. We ended up screaming for every lighting test, sound check, and rising/falling curtain just to release the adrenaline (and oh, there was adrenaline. As soon as the first song kicked in I was feeling NO pain). Their entrance reminded me quite a bit of what Linkin Park did for Projekt Rev; billowy curtain which turned transparent under the dramatic flashes of light. Part of me was like GERARD, YOU TEASE, but most of me thought it was pretty awesome.
They kicked off with Sleep, which is just- it's a killer live song, guys, absolutely fantastic. You can feel all the emotion in the lyrics and in the music, it's like a wave of raw power. And even though I'd expected a horrible surge, the crowd was... not docile, but practically polite. After the first couple of songs, I was never shoved, squished, or banged around more than I could handle. This band will save, not just your life, but also your ribcage.
After that, I lose track of what order the songs were in, at least for the middle section.
thelemichas a better grasp of the order than I do in his recap. I can, however, give some rather priceless highlights.
- The Ghost of You was introduced as "A hand-wavy song! Or a lighter-lighting song, or cellphone-waving song, I don't know," at which everyone dutifully pulled out something light-up, and then as "and we almost drowned during the music video," at which half of the crowd started screaming like banshees. Myself included, because seriously, The Ghost of You! Ugh, so amazing.
- Cemetery Drive. My personal favorite song, and one that I had no expectation of hearing at this show, so when it started playing I honest-to-god swooned for a minute before going completely nuts. I have this thing for that song that would take an entire post to explain, so suffice to say that it meant the world to me, and I will never ever forget hearing it live like that, so very close.
- Headfirst for Halos! I'm not going to lie, I would have loved to hear Honey (or, for that matter, Vampires), but hearing anything from Bullets was nothing short of an honor. Also, Frank rocked out and threw himself around like a crazy motherfucker, I think he was having a flashback to his old days of dreads and hardcore screaming.
- Teenagers, and Gerard declared that they were bringing out "some friends" to play along. Another band? No, it was a tech guy with a harmonica, and a bandana wrapped around his head hippie-style. I have no clue, but he was pretty enthusiastic, and I would love to hear the story behind that one.
- I'm Not Okay is the ultimate summer jam! Somehow, I feel like I've heard that line before. It has to be hard to think up ways to hype your best-known song, I imagine.
There were some non-music-related Good Times thrown in there, as well. (All photos taken by
shnooker_doo13.)
GERARD IS A PRETTY LADY. His hair was actually unbelievably fluffy and clean when he first got out, it was pretty shocking while it lasted (not long). For each of the band members, there was a moment when it clicked that I was looking at a real person twenty feet away and not, like, a singing dancing action figure or someone on a screen; for Gerard, it was the wedding ring and his belt buckle. I was close enough to see the stitching on his jeans, and somehow that made it real.
I'm still not sure that Mikeyway is real, if only because he's made of pure, head-banging, bass-fucking sex god. Although again, what made him real was suddenly catching a glimpse of the tattoo on his left wrist; that, and an actual look at the famous spacepiratehooker boots. But. SEX GOD. I stared at him so much that it was probably rude, but it was a strange case of being actually physically attracted to him within the first five seconds of seeing him.
Fraaaaank! Tiny and awesome and hardcore. That's a Drive By hoodie he was wearing, it was available at the merch booth; when he took it off I could see an adorable Godzilla t-shirt, the two neck tattoos (the Moment of Realization), and possibly a finished sleeve on his right arm. It really looked like it, and I was pretty close, but no-one else can confirm or deny and I'm not 100% confident. There appeared to be a face near the outside of his elbow, and possibly some words. Or birds, even. What you can't see in this picture is that he was wearing cutoff jeans that were too short for Frank and exposed his ankles and tiny white socks. N'aww. *grins*
SO. During I'm Not Okay Gerard did this... shimmy wiggle belly-dancer sort of thing with his hips and I was momentarily distracted from everything else ON THE PLANET, including breathing. The man has better hips than any woman I've ever met, god. Unfortunately, in a pit, distraction equals taking an elbow hard to the ribs. I SUFFER FOR MY LOVE, etc.
And the bee hats! Okay, so there were these people- I saw them in line- wearing things like yellow felt helmets with black bee-stripes, eyes, and curly antennae, and they said "You give us a great buzz!" on the back in green marker. Basically they were adorable, and someone threw one up to Gerard, prompting him to go all flaily and admit that he'd totally wanted one when he saw them in line even though he never wanted anything people threw to him! Except for drawings (draaaawrings). "It just gets too hot for boas nowadays, you know? You should totally wear it, though, it looks cute."
Frank leaned in to tell Gerard that he also wouldn't mind if anyone tossed up a MacBook Pro. Nice try, honey. Frank was also playing little solo interludes between each song that were pretty sweet, I think.
Oh! At one point Gerard and Mikey were backstage during an interlude, leaning in really close to each other and talking. And if that's not daring enough for you, during another song Gerard gave Mikey this sort of shoulder grab and neck caress combo while making his This Is Inappropriate, Pay Attention face. It doesn't compare to the chest-licking of days past, but it made me happy. Mmm.
So they finished up with a piano-and-Gerard version of Cancer, then came back for the encore with Desert Song (Ray acoustic, Frank on the floor, Mikey backstage guzzling orange Gatorade and chatting with a sound guy, which I had a perfect view of), followed by Give 'Em Hell, Kid, and ended for real with Helena; "If you've heard one song of ours, it's probably this one," and Gerard sounded kind of proud when he said it. By that point I had worked my way from eighth-row in front of Frank to fourth row in front of Mikey; perfect view, insanely close. It was full-on, arms waving and fists pumping and the crowd living up every last second. Memorable, absolutely.
Ran into Blue-Haired Kid a.k.a. J again. Made further inept attempts at flirting, somewhat hindered by the fact that I KNEW I was sweaty and disgusting, although he was obviously in the same state. I couldn't have done too badly, though, because he did ask for my number (and those of my friends, to be fair). I didn't give it to him, but I did give him my AIM screenname, and if he messages me? I'll just give him the damned cell number. Life is too short. I also turned around, ran back, and gave him a hug, so, yeah. It was probably just a friendship thing, but go me! anyways.
Bought the MIKEY FUCKIN WAY shirt. I didn't really have a choice, since I've developed a possibly unhealthy fixation on the thing after seeing it on its namesake. I can never wear it to school, but oh, it is love.
In order of album, the complete setlist was Headfirst for Halos, Helena, Give 'Em Hell, Kid, You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison, I'm Not Okay (I Promise), The Ghost of You, [possibly Thank You For The Venom, although I don't remember it], Hang 'Em High, Cemetery Drive, Dead!, This Is How I Disappear, Welcome To The Black Parade, I Don't Love You, House Of Wolves, Cancer, Mama, Sleep, Teenagers, and Famous Last Words, as well as Heaven Help Us, My Way Home Is Through You, and Desert Song. Kickass, seriously, I don't know how you could beat that.
And thus concludes the Epic Recap of Doom. End time: 7:49 p.m. Thank god.