Concert Review
Went to see Foxy Shazam, Patrick Stump, and Panic! at the Disco tonight, and it was amazeballs.
nikki_shame and I got there around 7-ish and looked for maple_mahogany around the front of house, but she was nowhere to be seen. We found out a little bit later that she was all the way up at barrier. Bananas and I don't really do barrier because she gets uncomfortable with that many people touching her and I tend to get in fights. There was a nice empty spot right at front of house (in front of the sound booth), so we chilled there and watched Foxy Shazam.
When they came on stage, Bananas said, "They don't really look like I was expecting a Panic opening act to look."
I said, "Oh, shit, they're insane. Like, the lead singer, he's clinically nutballs. One time I saw him eat an entire pack of lit cigarettes."
Halfway through their set, she leaned over and said, "He's not really the most mentally well monkey, is he?"
I said, "Nope!"
I'm not actually a huge fan of Foxy Shazam's music. Not that I dislike it, it just doesn't grab me. But I love to watch them perform.
Then there was a break and we went outside so I could smoke and Bananas could get some cool air and when we came back we found a spot behind three cute dapper butch lesbians. Like, one of them was wearing a tie and a vest and a newsboy cap. I was like, "Helloooo, ladies!" And then they turned out to be assholes. They were talking about how much Foxy had sucked and how gross they were and how they couldn't believe they actually had fans, which, okay. I figured it was maybe just a taste thing, since Eric is pretty out there.
Then one of them backed up and stomped on my foot and she didn't even say sorry. Then Patrick Stump came on, and the same one backed up and stepped on my foot again and didn't even turn to look to see who she'd stomped on. I was trying to be Zen because he was singing Bowie. Like, you guys don't even know. "Let's Dance" is the first song I ever remember listening to, and the memory is so vivid, me in the passenger seat of my mom's brown station wagon, getting my brother from the library, looking down at my tights and my maryjanes and my feet dangling above the floor (this was back in the days before things like kids sitting in the back seat, or even car seats), and the trees bare with only a few dead brown leaves and the air cold, and David Bowie on the radio singing, "Put on your red shoes and dance the blues," in this voice that enthralled and kind of scared me, but in a good way, like Halloween. I love David Bowie so, so, so much. And Patrick started off singing "Let's Dance" and I was in heaven.
Until bitch backed up into me again and she wasn't even listening, she was gabbing with her friends really loud about another friend of theirs, and she didn't say she was sorry or even look around, and I kept repeating, "Don't punch her in the head. Don't punch her in the head. If you punch her in the head they'll throw you out and you won't get to see Spencer."
So when there was a break in the crowd, I ducked in front of her (I considered stepping on her foot on my way forward, but I didn't) and that was much, much better because I can just ignore people behind me. And Patrick played and freaking sang his heart out and it was awesome until the still-cute-but-still-assholes dapper butch lesbians behind me were like, "Why the fuck is he trying to play the drums? Like, who does he think he is? This is terrible, he sucks, his old band sucked, too, he's such a goddamn poseur."
I was trying to focus on my happy place. My happy place is a peaceful woodland glade where Spencer Smith and a honey badger hang out and play cards. I kept trying to focus on my happy place, but they were being such assholes and so fucking loud about it that I just went back to Bananas and was like, "Do you want to go get a beer?"
She said, "No, he's fucking awesome!" Which was true. Then she said, "Those lesbians are bitches. They are lesbians, right?"
I said, "Yes."
She said, "I was pretty sure."
There was a lull, and we grabbed a couple beers real quick, and then when we got back, Patrick started his cover of "In the Air Tonight." Now, everything that David Bowie is to me, Phil Collins is to Bananas. She was in heaven. Also, I found out after the show that she had no idea that Patrick's style had changed so she was totally shocked to see him come onstage without a hat and, like, neon sneakers, slouched behind his guitar. She cried, "He's the missing link between Darren Hayes and Matt Smith!" And if you know Bananas, that is high praise indeed.
A girl came up to me and said, "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you like rockabilly music?"
I said, "...yes?" Because I do, but I was kind of taken aback by a stranger striking up a conversation while a concert was going on.
Turns out some of her friends are putting on a rockabilly show this weekend and she saw me and figured I looked like I listened to rockabilly (what gave it away? The plaid shirt? The bandana? The red lips?) so she wanted to invite me to the show. Cool, right?
And then there was a break and, blah, blah, blah, I smoked and we got beer and when we came back, there was a lot of room up front so we settled in behind three gay men in their early 20s. I thought, "Yay, my people!" Unfortunately, they were assholes. Now, they were totally into the music, but they were into it so much that they kept swaying back and forth and back and forth and each one of them used up about four feet of floor space all to himself. Since I was behind them, this meant that I could only see the headstock of Dallon's bass on the right and occasionally a glimpse of Ian's elbow on the left. I couldn't see Brendon, and most importantly, I couldn't see Spencer.
I considered punching one of them in the kidney. I considered telling them to stay in one motherfucking spot for fuck's sake, and telling them to take one look at me and consider for about three seconds whether or not I looked like I was willing to kick their asses because I am a cranky fucking dyke who can't see her favorite band because they want to be disco drama queens.
I didn't do any of those things because I am trying to be a responsible adult. And also, if they threw me out I wouldn't get to see Spencer. So I slowly crept forward and to the right until I was beside them, and when they tried to sway towards me, I put one hand on my hip so motherfuckers got my elbow in their ribs. Look, I didn't do the touching! I was just standing there, motionless, with my hand on my hip, and he was the one who slammed himself into it! (After the show, Bananas said, "It's funny, because you're gay and now you hate gay people." I said, "Not all of them. Just the ones tonight." She said, "That's okay. I'm Puerto Rican Irish, and I hate Puerto Ricans. And the Irish.")
I started to move up further and further, away from Bananas, but that was okay because we'd already agreed if we got split up we'd just meet outside. And I got in front of the annoying dudes (although I could feel the one who'd slammed himself into my elbow giving me the death glare, but whatever) and ended up behind two teenage boys who were there with a bunch of their friends and, like, having the best time ever but not in an obnoxious way. One of them had kind of a big head to see around, but it's not like that's his fault. They also smelled like teenage boy BO, but I was okay with that. It wasn't particularly gross, it was just that smell that teenage boys have, like they should maybe shower a couple times a day and periodically roll themselves in baking soda. And I was blissfully enjoying my show and staring at Spencer and dancing and singing along, so I didn't notice until half an hour later that the stinky teenage boys in front of me were holding hands.
So presh. They totally redeemed all the asshole homos there tonight, including me.
Oh, wait, what? You want to hear about the actual show? Pfft. Like that's half as exciting as my experiences with having to share personal space with complete strangers.
So! Spencer was adorable, as always. He was drinking crappy beer out of a plastic cup, as per usual, and when Dallon told the audience that Brendon loves the audience more than anything, Spencer broke in and said that actually, Brendon loves bagels and cream cheese more than anything.
Oooh, my video finally uploaded to YouTube! Fair warning, the video quality is shit. Flipcams do not handle low light situations well. I'm sorry! I'm pretty sure maple_mahogany got much better shots with her camera up at barrier. But here's mine anyway.
Brendon is so, so sick. His voice kept breaking and he seemed tired even when he was flipping off Spencer's riser. I didn't get the flip, but he does it a lot so I'm sure there are more than enough videos of that online. And if you'll notice, Zack runs onstage and rips a piece of paper off Brendon's keyboard that one of the techs had put there just a minute earlier. I'm pretty sure those were lyrics to whatever cover they were going to do, but before I started filming this, Brendon and Spencer were having an intense conversation as Dallon and Ian riffed, and I think they were probably deciding they weren't going to do whatever cover Tucson had voted for.
They played "Thing Called Love" as their cover and once again, quality's crappy. Just skip ahead to 5:35 and watch Ian shred like a motherfucker.
Here's "Lying." The obnoxious giant head that keeps popping into frame from the left? He didn't know it at the time, but in just a couple of minutes he was going to get my pointy elbow in his ribs.
And just to complete the set, here's "Trade Mistakes," which I love so, so much. This show really made me realize how much I love Vices & Virtues. Not that I dislike the other two albums, but V&V is so obviously my favorite. I'm like that with a lot of things, though. I still love the old, but I'm madly in love with the new. Like in Doctor Who; I always love the current Doctor best (after a short adjustment period). Sure, I'll always adore David Tennant, but Matt Smith is the one who makes my heart go pitter pat.
Then, at the very end after Brendon and Dallon and Ian walked off, Spencer stayed on stage and gestured to Ian, who came back and threw his entire guitar at Spencer, who then kicked it as it was flying towards him and stomped on it a couple of times before walking off stage. Love that weirdo.
And just in case you have no idea why there's a honey badger in my happy place:
The honey badger is my spirit animal.
nikki_shame and I got there around 7-ish and looked for maple_mahogany around the front of house, but she was nowhere to be seen. We found out a little bit later that she was all the way up at barrier. Bananas and I don't really do barrier because she gets uncomfortable with that many people touching her and I tend to get in fights. There was a nice empty spot right at front of house (in front of the sound booth), so we chilled there and watched Foxy Shazam.
When they came on stage, Bananas said, "They don't really look like I was expecting a Panic opening act to look."
I said, "Oh, shit, they're insane. Like, the lead singer, he's clinically nutballs. One time I saw him eat an entire pack of lit cigarettes."
Halfway through their set, she leaned over and said, "He's not really the most mentally well monkey, is he?"
I said, "Nope!"
I'm not actually a huge fan of Foxy Shazam's music. Not that I dislike it, it just doesn't grab me. But I love to watch them perform.
Then there was a break and we went outside so I could smoke and Bananas could get some cool air and when we came back we found a spot behind three cute dapper butch lesbians. Like, one of them was wearing a tie and a vest and a newsboy cap. I was like, "Helloooo, ladies!" And then they turned out to be assholes. They were talking about how much Foxy had sucked and how gross they were and how they couldn't believe they actually had fans, which, okay. I figured it was maybe just a taste thing, since Eric is pretty out there.
Then one of them backed up and stomped on my foot and she didn't even say sorry. Then Patrick Stump came on, and the same one backed up and stepped on my foot again and didn't even turn to look to see who she'd stomped on. I was trying to be Zen because he was singing Bowie. Like, you guys don't even know. "Let's Dance" is the first song I ever remember listening to, and the memory is so vivid, me in the passenger seat of my mom's brown station wagon, getting my brother from the library, looking down at my tights and my maryjanes and my feet dangling above the floor (this was back in the days before things like kids sitting in the back seat, or even car seats), and the trees bare with only a few dead brown leaves and the air cold, and David Bowie on the radio singing, "Put on your red shoes and dance the blues," in this voice that enthralled and kind of scared me, but in a good way, like Halloween. I love David Bowie so, so, so much. And Patrick started off singing "Let's Dance" and I was in heaven.
Until bitch backed up into me again and she wasn't even listening, she was gabbing with her friends really loud about another friend of theirs, and she didn't say she was sorry or even look around, and I kept repeating, "Don't punch her in the head. Don't punch her in the head. If you punch her in the head they'll throw you out and you won't get to see Spencer."
So when there was a break in the crowd, I ducked in front of her (I considered stepping on her foot on my way forward, but I didn't) and that was much, much better because I can just ignore people behind me. And Patrick played and freaking sang his heart out and it was awesome until the still-cute-but-still-assholes dapper butch lesbians behind me were like, "Why the fuck is he trying to play the drums? Like, who does he think he is? This is terrible, he sucks, his old band sucked, too, he's such a goddamn poseur."
I was trying to focus on my happy place. My happy place is a peaceful woodland glade where Spencer Smith and a honey badger hang out and play cards. I kept trying to focus on my happy place, but they were being such assholes and so fucking loud about it that I just went back to Bananas and was like, "Do you want to go get a beer?"
She said, "No, he's fucking awesome!" Which was true. Then she said, "Those lesbians are bitches. They are lesbians, right?"
I said, "Yes."
She said, "I was pretty sure."
There was a lull, and we grabbed a couple beers real quick, and then when we got back, Patrick started his cover of "In the Air Tonight." Now, everything that David Bowie is to me, Phil Collins is to Bananas. She was in heaven. Also, I found out after the show that she had no idea that Patrick's style had changed so she was totally shocked to see him come onstage without a hat and, like, neon sneakers, slouched behind his guitar. She cried, "He's the missing link between Darren Hayes and Matt Smith!" And if you know Bananas, that is high praise indeed.
A girl came up to me and said, "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you like rockabilly music?"
I said, "...yes?" Because I do, but I was kind of taken aback by a stranger striking up a conversation while a concert was going on.
Turns out some of her friends are putting on a rockabilly show this weekend and she saw me and figured I looked like I listened to rockabilly (what gave it away? The plaid shirt? The bandana? The red lips?) so she wanted to invite me to the show. Cool, right?
And then there was a break and, blah, blah, blah, I smoked and we got beer and when we came back, there was a lot of room up front so we settled in behind three gay men in their early 20s. I thought, "Yay, my people!" Unfortunately, they were assholes. Now, they were totally into the music, but they were into it so much that they kept swaying back and forth and back and forth and each one of them used up about four feet of floor space all to himself. Since I was behind them, this meant that I could only see the headstock of Dallon's bass on the right and occasionally a glimpse of Ian's elbow on the left. I couldn't see Brendon, and most importantly, I couldn't see Spencer.
I considered punching one of them in the kidney. I considered telling them to stay in one motherfucking spot for fuck's sake, and telling them to take one look at me and consider for about three seconds whether or not I looked like I was willing to kick their asses because I am a cranky fucking dyke who can't see her favorite band because they want to be disco drama queens.
I didn't do any of those things because I am trying to be a responsible adult. And also, if they threw me out I wouldn't get to see Spencer. So I slowly crept forward and to the right until I was beside them, and when they tried to sway towards me, I put one hand on my hip so motherfuckers got my elbow in their ribs. Look, I didn't do the touching! I was just standing there, motionless, with my hand on my hip, and he was the one who slammed himself into it! (After the show, Bananas said, "It's funny, because you're gay and now you hate gay people." I said, "Not all of them. Just the ones tonight." She said, "That's okay. I'm Puerto Rican Irish, and I hate Puerto Ricans. And the Irish.")
I started to move up further and further, away from Bananas, but that was okay because we'd already agreed if we got split up we'd just meet outside. And I got in front of the annoying dudes (although I could feel the one who'd slammed himself into my elbow giving me the death glare, but whatever) and ended up behind two teenage boys who were there with a bunch of their friends and, like, having the best time ever but not in an obnoxious way. One of them had kind of a big head to see around, but it's not like that's his fault. They also smelled like teenage boy BO, but I was okay with that. It wasn't particularly gross, it was just that smell that teenage boys have, like they should maybe shower a couple times a day and periodically roll themselves in baking soda. And I was blissfully enjoying my show and staring at Spencer and dancing and singing along, so I didn't notice until half an hour later that the stinky teenage boys in front of me were holding hands.
So presh. They totally redeemed all the asshole homos there tonight, including me.
Oh, wait, what? You want to hear about the actual show? Pfft. Like that's half as exciting as my experiences with having to share personal space with complete strangers.
So! Spencer was adorable, as always. He was drinking crappy beer out of a plastic cup, as per usual, and when Dallon told the audience that Brendon loves the audience more than anything, Spencer broke in and said that actually, Brendon loves bagels and cream cheese more than anything.
Oooh, my video finally uploaded to YouTube! Fair warning, the video quality is shit. Flipcams do not handle low light situations well. I'm sorry! I'm pretty sure maple_mahogany got much better shots with her camera up at barrier. But here's mine anyway.
Click to viewBrendon is so, so sick. His voice kept breaking and he seemed tired even when he was flipping off Spencer's riser. I didn't get the flip, but he does it a lot so I'm sure there are more than enough videos of that online. And if you'll notice, Zack runs onstage and rips a piece of paper off Brendon's keyboard that one of the techs had put there just a minute earlier. I'm pretty sure those were lyrics to whatever cover they were going to do, but before I started filming this, Brendon and Spencer were having an intense conversation as Dallon and Ian riffed, and I think they were probably deciding they weren't going to do whatever cover Tucson had voted for.
They played "Thing Called Love" as their cover and once again, quality's crappy. Just skip ahead to 5:35 and watch Ian shred like a motherfucker.
Here's "Lying." The obnoxious giant head that keeps popping into frame from the left? He didn't know it at the time, but in just a couple of minutes he was going to get my pointy elbow in his ribs.
And just to complete the set, here's "Trade Mistakes," which I love so, so much. This show really made me realize how much I love Vices & Virtues. Not that I dislike the other two albums, but V&V is so obviously my favorite. I'm like that with a lot of things, though. I still love the old, but I'm madly in love with the new. Like in Doctor Who; I always love the current Doctor best (after a short adjustment period). Sure, I'll always adore David Tennant, but Matt Smith is the one who makes my heart go pitter pat.
Then, at the very end after Brendon and Dallon and Ian walked off, Spencer stayed on stage and gestured to Ian, who came back and threw his entire guitar at Spencer, who then kicked it as it was flying towards him and stomped on it a couple of times before walking off stage. Love that weirdo.
And just in case you have no idea why there's a honey badger in my happy place:
The honey badger is my spirit animal.