RECAP: The All-American Rejects @ Istora Senayan, August 17th 2009
Let me begin by telling you why this show was of special significance both to us Indonesians and (as I would later find out) to the Rejects themselves. The bombings of July 17th is still fresh in all our memories, and to stage a major musical event in the heart of Jakarta on this day of all days, our Independence Day, can only a be daunting thing.
It was just a week ago, while the hugely-successful JAVAROCKINGLAND festival was in full swing, that the Indonesian counter-terrorism police forces staged an operation that uncovered a plot to carry out a series of suicide bombings, planned for our Independence Day of August 17th. In a safehouse in Bekasi, 15 kilometres from the president's home, 500 kilograms worth of explosives was discovered, some already assembled into high-powered bombs much more powerful than the ones that brought so much damage to the Ritz-Carlton and JW Marriott hotels just a month ago. Among the items discovered was a customized vest, sewn in with rubber band loops so the wearer might carry a large amount of explosives on his person and yes, commit a suicide bombing.
Meanwhile, in Central Java, the police surrounded a nondescript village home, with terrorist mastermind Noordin M. Top reportedly holed up inside. There was exchange of gunfire that carried into the night and into the dawn. When the smoke cleared, the terrorist who lay dead inside turned out to be not Noordin M. Top, but Ibrohim, the florist who worked at the JW Marriott, and who'd been missing since the day of the bombings. As days unfolded, more and more shocking details about the Noordin M. Top cell was revealed. How one of his minions, a charismatic preacher of radical Islam, managed to indoctrinate an 18-year-old boy named Dani Dwi Permana to carry out the bombing at the JW Marriott. Dani's last moments, captured on CCTV as he wheeled a trolley into the crowded lounge of the hotel on the morning of July 8th, is a sequence of images that Indonesians won't soon forget. And how the safehouse in Bekasi was being used to store explosives meant for the presidential residence in Cikeas and some say for the Presidential Palace in the heart of Jakarta, and how the florist Ibrohim was meant to be the one carrying out the suicide bombings.
BOTTOM LINE: The plot to carry out a series of bombings that could have potentially destroyed our shaky national confidence was foiled, but Noordin M. Top remains at large.
People are anxious, still. Security at malls, hotels and public places have been heightened (AS THEY SHOULD BE), seeing as how it was revealed that the Marriott bombs were smuggled through the loading docks in the back entrance (and how Ibrohim, having worked there for years, escaped suspicion and the normally rigorous checking). The cancellation of Manchester United's Jakarta visit, part of their Asian tour, hurt many both financially and psychologically, as it would be a bad precedent for other foreigners to come here if the biggest fucking football club in the world would not set foot on our soil.
JAVAROCKINGLAND was the first sign that things could bounce back. Third Eye Blind, Vertical Horizon, Melee, Mew, Secondhand Serenade, and MR. BIG all showed up bringing their A-game, rocking us all into the early morning hours and publicly shouting out words of encouragement for other bands to come here. Stephan Jenkins, Third Eye Blind's vocalist, told us that we were all "beautiful people" and that we should be proud of ourselves. But as August 17th drew near, anxiety surfaced once more. Would the terrorists carry out a sort of "Plan B" strike, if they had one, both as retribution for the original plans being foiled, for their "brothers" being killed by police, and to strike another blow on this sacred day?
Enter The All-American Rejects, stepping into the event calendar of a still-reeling Jakarta and confirming their August 17th date, which was long kept under wraps by promoters. What's more? Tyson Ritter and co. insisted on staying at the recently-bombed Ritz-Carlton, not as a show of jingoistic bravado, but as a statement of courage against terrorism, to show them that they had not succeeded, that they never will. They arrived here from Malaysia on August 16th, and guitarist Nick Wheeler immediately tweeted about how unbelievable the welcome was at the airport. Vocalist/bassist Tyson Ritter took one step further when he video-blogged from his room at the Ritz-Carlton, showing pictures on his iPhone which he took at the airport, showing a throng of fans, hundreds of them, all there to welcome his little band. I don't know if AAR have never been swarmed at the airport before but...we do that. Indonesians love a good crowd, and any chance to catch a glimpse of their favorite band is a legit reason to go our middle-of-nowhere, hot-and-humid, uncomfortably cluttered airport.
At the press conference, Tyson Ritter commanded attention, not just because he wore glitter on his face, but because he claimed that the band have been practicing how to pronounce Noordin M. Top's name so they could "tell him to fuck off at the show tomorrow". Tyson later video-blogs from his room again, this time parading a succession of weird fruits he had on his fruit platter (most likely a complementary gift from the hotel), and proceeding to suck and nibble on each of them in the most porniciously delicous way, EVER, while telling viewers that some thought his plan to tell the terrorist to fuck off was dangerous, as well as incendiary.
This was what Tyson said: "You know what? FUCK YOU. Fear is the fuel of the weak, and I refuse to put that shit in my fucking car, you know what I'm saying?"
So with all that in mind, was it going to be as good a show as they anticipated? Would the fans get their moneys' worth? Would my sister and I end up being the oldest bitches in the crowd among a sea of teenies in home-made t-shirts and "HUG ME TYSON" placards? Find out after the jump.
The venue, Istora Senayan, is dilapidated old sports hall that has seen better days, but it still has killer acoustics and has played host to: The Corrs, New Kids On the Block, Take That, Good Charlotte, various productions of Holidays On Ice and Disney On Ice, and more recently MUSE and the Pussycat Dolls. We got there at 5.30 and proceeded to wait patiently through a series of security checks, pat-downs and searches while rolling our eyes at the concert n00bs who either carried large handbags, wore uncomfortable shoes, or was dressed to kill with bangles and whatnot. Sheeesh. Entering the actual venue, we managed to squeeze right up to barrier on Mike's side of the stage (his left, our right). Like, SMACK IN THE BARRIER and I didn't have to cut a teenie for it.
The AAR logo on the massive backdrop, normally red in color, was done in red-and-white, the colors of our flag. I have good feeling about this. When the lights went out, an MC came out and asked us all to stand and sing our national anthem. Following a recording of President Soekarno reading the declaration of Independence from 1945, we started singing. And in the middle of the song, OUT PRANCED TYSON RITTER, ALIVE AND IN THE SKINNY FLESH, WEARING A RED "WE ARE NOT AFRAID" T-SHIRT AND WAVING AN INDONESIAN FLAG!
After that rousing opening, what followed was about 15 minutes of restless waiting as techs and roadies did some last-minute things on stage. There might have been some technical problems but I can't be sure. What matters is that all of that was instantly forgotten the moment the lights went out and we heard the first bars of "Dirty Little Secret".
After that, it was party time.
Out came the Rejects, Nick in his pirate-garb, Mike in a cutoff tank top and skinny jeans, Chris bare-chested and clean-shaven and bathed in glorious stage lights. And then Tyson Ritter took the stage--SHIRTLESS, SHOELESS, AND COVERED IN GLITTER. I KID YOU FUCKING NOT. And how do I even begin to describe what he does on stage? He was a total stagewhore, going on his knees (A LOT) and at one point even stripper-slithered all the way from the side of the stage. The glitter got everywhere. HE *WAS* SPARKLE MOTION, PERSONIFIED. At one point somebody flung a pink bra at the stage and Tyson picked it up and dangled it from his mic stand. "Guess I'm not that far from home, after all!" he joked.
They played a set that was long by their standards, about 1.5 hours, bringing out all the classic hits as well as material from the new album. From the first record, "Swing Swing" and "My Paper Heart" got the crowd going. Hands were swaying in the air during "It Ends Tonight". During "When the World Comes Down", Mike played bass and Nick played an acoustic guitar. The unstoppable Tyson Ritter alternated between playing bass and handing bass duties over to another dude so he would be FREE TO SPARKLE.
Chris Gaylor was shirtless--which made me dream of one day seeing Bob Bryar drum naked. NOT gonna happen, I know, unless he loses a bet or something. But BC Bryar is too smart to lose a bet. Unless the penalty of losing meant he had to deep-throat Ray. He'll give it a try. Also? GAYLOR GUT GUNS. This shouldn't surprise me, being a drummer and all, but SERIOUS GUNS. And he was clean-shaven and precious and kept smiling at the keyboardist (and Mike, of course).
Mike Kennerty was, as promised, a complete fucking dynamo. It felt like he was right in my face the whole fucking time (I think cordella's in love with him). He was whipping that ridic hair of his all around and rocking out, jumping all over the place. He wouldn't. stop. moving.
Nick Wheeler was dressed like an extra from a Meatloaf music video: ruffled white shirt open to the stomach, pinned with a cross-shaped brooch, a black vest, and changed his guitar about 100 times. His beloved double-neck came out during "The Wind Blows". I have to say that NOTHING beats seeing these guys from up close and in the flesh. I COULD SEE TYSON'S HAPPY TRAIL DOWN TO THE INDIVIDUAL HAIRS. And they were all extremely good-looking, like HOT AS TWELVE FUCKING BLAZING SUNS good-looking. Even more so than in any picture I've seen of them. Mike, especially. And Nick, whose preciousness made the outfit forgivable.
THE GAYEST BAND ALIVE lived up to their billing. Tyson alternated between kneeling in front of Nick and licking his guitar, to hip-thrusting at Mike and smacking his ass, to flirting with everything that moved and some things that didn't, while abusing about twelve mic stands and spreading his sparkle all over us. He was DAAAAZZZZLING. I totally, completely, utterly LOST MY FUCKING SHIT during "Move Along". Actually, I lost my fucking shit right at the beginning, when Chris started drumming the intro. I didn't care if I looked like a complete ass, this is what I go to shows for, to get crazy and not care about any-fucking-thing.
After "Move Along", Tyson brought out a piece of paper and told us he wrote us something, and that he was gonna read it and "Whip out those cell phones, Jakarta...cause I want the WORLD to hear this."
"People of Jakarta, we have something in common. I gotta talk to you about it. We are not afraid. I stand in front of you tonight a person who has refused to fear. Fear is the fuel for the weak. And are we weak? We are the strong few who wield our instruments and songs as ammunition to fight the good fight against the oppressors, the bastards that use bombs and terrorism to kill the innocent. Tonight is special because we celebrate merdeka! Tonight we celebrate your independence and the earth-shaking power that is freedom! Do you feel alive? Do you feel free? Our freedoms are the only wings we have to fly above the fear, so tonight we soar together and sing our freedom into the sky. We are not afraid! People advised us after the bombings to reconsider coming to Jakarta. People told us that we should be afraid. But this suggestion only added the backbone to our band to do something bigger than life. We are not afraid! We played for you tonight not just as a band. Not just as a band, but as the collective voice of Jakarta that screams into the night: FUCK THE TERRORISTS! I hope this gives you hell!"
TYSON FUCKING RITTER, MOTHERFUCKERS. AND HE *CLIMBED* THE RAFTERS AT THE SIDE OF THE STAGE DURING THE SONG!!! THE TECHS WERE PANICKING UNDER HIM, HOLDING ON TO HIS CABLES WHILE HE WAS UP THERE, SHIRTLES AND SPARKLY AND TELLING US ALL TO SING ALONG. BEST MOMENT OF THE NIGHT, AFTER THE SPEECH.
It was the last song, and my sister and I went home and I sat in front of the computer for a few hours and discovered Tyson's video blog entries and watched, hearts in my eyes, as he spoke of how the show he'd just played was the best show he ever played in the history of his band. He was visibly overwhelmed by the crowd and the reaction, and I just fucking love. him. so. fucking. much. And he told us to go give someobody a hug because "You need eight hugs a day to be happy".
THIS BAND. THIS FUCKING BAND. THEY MADE MY FUCKING LIFE AND I LOVE THEM.
I leave you a few choice quotes from Mr. Sparkle Motion himself:
• On dragonfruit: "This looks like it came out of a Dr. Seuss book."
• On the airport welcome: "Most surreal experience of my life. OF MY LIFE! And that's why • I got my glitter, I got my glitter!"
• On his "we are not afraid" speech: "It was the most heartfelt thing I've ever done."
• On hugging: "You need eight hugs a day to be happy, I read that somewhere."
And he had this to say at the very end: "I'm too wasted to continue, so....p-p-p-partay!"
ETA:
• This entry is now public. Feel free to link it to anyone who you think might benefit from the awesomeness that is AAR's courage and defiance--and how kickass my country really is.
• Rec me good AAR fic, communities, primers (aside from the bandom_primers one, which is 100 degrees of awesome), picspams, galleries, icons, whatevers.
• If anyone has rips from their two DVDs (I already ordered them on Amazon.com, but I am impatient, lol) I'd be very grateful.
• Rock on.
It was just a week ago, while the hugely-successful JAVAROCKINGLAND festival was in full swing, that the Indonesian counter-terrorism police forces staged an operation that uncovered a plot to carry out a series of suicide bombings, planned for our Independence Day of August 17th. In a safehouse in Bekasi, 15 kilometres from the president's home, 500 kilograms worth of explosives was discovered, some already assembled into high-powered bombs much more powerful than the ones that brought so much damage to the Ritz-Carlton and JW Marriott hotels just a month ago. Among the items discovered was a customized vest, sewn in with rubber band loops so the wearer might carry a large amount of explosives on his person and yes, commit a suicide bombing.
Meanwhile, in Central Java, the police surrounded a nondescript village home, with terrorist mastermind Noordin M. Top reportedly holed up inside. There was exchange of gunfire that carried into the night and into the dawn. When the smoke cleared, the terrorist who lay dead inside turned out to be not Noordin M. Top, but Ibrohim, the florist who worked at the JW Marriott, and who'd been missing since the day of the bombings. As days unfolded, more and more shocking details about the Noordin M. Top cell was revealed. How one of his minions, a charismatic preacher of radical Islam, managed to indoctrinate an 18-year-old boy named Dani Dwi Permana to carry out the bombing at the JW Marriott. Dani's last moments, captured on CCTV as he wheeled a trolley into the crowded lounge of the hotel on the morning of July 8th, is a sequence of images that Indonesians won't soon forget. And how the safehouse in Bekasi was being used to store explosives meant for the presidential residence in Cikeas and some say for the Presidential Palace in the heart of Jakarta, and how the florist Ibrohim was meant to be the one carrying out the suicide bombings.
BOTTOM LINE: The plot to carry out a series of bombings that could have potentially destroyed our shaky national confidence was foiled, but Noordin M. Top remains at large.
People are anxious, still. Security at malls, hotels and public places have been heightened (AS THEY SHOULD BE), seeing as how it was revealed that the Marriott bombs were smuggled through the loading docks in the back entrance (and how Ibrohim, having worked there for years, escaped suspicion and the normally rigorous checking). The cancellation of Manchester United's Jakarta visit, part of their Asian tour, hurt many both financially and psychologically, as it would be a bad precedent for other foreigners to come here if the biggest fucking football club in the world would not set foot on our soil.
JAVAROCKINGLAND was the first sign that things could bounce back. Third Eye Blind, Vertical Horizon, Melee, Mew, Secondhand Serenade, and MR. BIG all showed up bringing their A-game, rocking us all into the early morning hours and publicly shouting out words of encouragement for other bands to come here. Stephan Jenkins, Third Eye Blind's vocalist, told us that we were all "beautiful people" and that we should be proud of ourselves. But as August 17th drew near, anxiety surfaced once more. Would the terrorists carry out a sort of "Plan B" strike, if they had one, both as retribution for the original plans being foiled, for their "brothers" being killed by police, and to strike another blow on this sacred day?
Enter The All-American Rejects, stepping into the event calendar of a still-reeling Jakarta and confirming their August 17th date, which was long kept under wraps by promoters. What's more? Tyson Ritter and co. insisted on staying at the recently-bombed Ritz-Carlton, not as a show of jingoistic bravado, but as a statement of courage against terrorism, to show them that they had not succeeded, that they never will. They arrived here from Malaysia on August 16th, and guitarist Nick Wheeler immediately tweeted about how unbelievable the welcome was at the airport. Vocalist/bassist Tyson Ritter took one step further when he video-blogged from his room at the Ritz-Carlton, showing pictures on his iPhone which he took at the airport, showing a throng of fans, hundreds of them, all there to welcome his little band. I don't know if AAR have never been swarmed at the airport before but...we do that. Indonesians love a good crowd, and any chance to catch a glimpse of their favorite band is a legit reason to go our middle-of-nowhere, hot-and-humid, uncomfortably cluttered airport.
At the press conference, Tyson Ritter commanded attention, not just because he wore glitter on his face, but because he claimed that the band have been practicing how to pronounce Noordin M. Top's name so they could "tell him to fuck off at the show tomorrow". Tyson later video-blogs from his room again, this time parading a succession of weird fruits he had on his fruit platter (most likely a complementary gift from the hotel), and proceeding to suck and nibble on each of them in the most porniciously delicous way, EVER, while telling viewers that some thought his plan to tell the terrorist to fuck off was dangerous, as well as incendiary.
This was what Tyson said: "You know what? FUCK YOU. Fear is the fuel of the weak, and I refuse to put that shit in my fucking car, you know what I'm saying?"
So with all that in mind, was it going to be as good a show as they anticipated? Would the fans get their moneys' worth? Would my sister and I end up being the oldest bitches in the crowd among a sea of teenies in home-made t-shirts and "HUG ME TYSON" placards? Find out after the jump.
The venue, Istora Senayan, is dilapidated old sports hall that has seen better days, but it still has killer acoustics and has played host to: The Corrs, New Kids On the Block, Take That, Good Charlotte, various productions of Holidays On Ice and Disney On Ice, and more recently MUSE and the Pussycat Dolls. We got there at 5.30 and proceeded to wait patiently through a series of security checks, pat-downs and searches while rolling our eyes at the concert n00bs who either carried large handbags, wore uncomfortable shoes, or was dressed to kill with bangles and whatnot. Sheeesh. Entering the actual venue, we managed to squeeze right up to barrier on Mike's side of the stage (his left, our right). Like, SMACK IN THE BARRIER and I didn't have to cut a teenie for it.
The AAR logo on the massive backdrop, normally red in color, was done in red-and-white, the colors of our flag. I have good feeling about this. When the lights went out, an MC came out and asked us all to stand and sing our national anthem. Following a recording of President Soekarno reading the declaration of Independence from 1945, we started singing. And in the middle of the song, OUT PRANCED TYSON RITTER, ALIVE AND IN THE SKINNY FLESH, WEARING A RED "WE ARE NOT AFRAID" T-SHIRT AND WAVING AN INDONESIAN FLAG!
Click to viewAfter that rousing opening, what followed was about 15 minutes of restless waiting as techs and roadies did some last-minute things on stage. There might have been some technical problems but I can't be sure. What matters is that all of that was instantly forgotten the moment the lights went out and we heard the first bars of "Dirty Little Secret".
After that, it was party time.
Out came the Rejects, Nick in his pirate-garb, Mike in a cutoff tank top and skinny jeans, Chris bare-chested and clean-shaven and bathed in glorious stage lights. And then Tyson Ritter took the stage--SHIRTLESS, SHOELESS, AND COVERED IN GLITTER. I KID YOU FUCKING NOT. And how do I even begin to describe what he does on stage? He was a total stagewhore, going on his knees (A LOT) and at one point even stripper-slithered all the way from the side of the stage. The glitter got everywhere. HE *WAS* SPARKLE MOTION, PERSONIFIED. At one point somebody flung a pink bra at the stage and Tyson picked it up and dangled it from his mic stand. "Guess I'm not that far from home, after all!" he joked.
They played a set that was long by their standards, about 1.5 hours, bringing out all the classic hits as well as material from the new album. From the first record, "Swing Swing" and "My Paper Heart" got the crowd going. Hands were swaying in the air during "It Ends Tonight". During "When the World Comes Down", Mike played bass and Nick played an acoustic guitar. The unstoppable Tyson Ritter alternated between playing bass and handing bass duties over to another dude so he would be FREE TO SPARKLE.
Chris Gaylor was shirtless--which made me dream of one day seeing Bob Bryar drum naked. NOT gonna happen, I know, unless he loses a bet or something. But BC Bryar is too smart to lose a bet. Unless the penalty of losing meant he had to deep-throat Ray. He'll give it a try. Also? GAYLOR GUT GUNS. This shouldn't surprise me, being a drummer and all, but SERIOUS GUNS. And he was clean-shaven and precious and kept smiling at the keyboardist (and Mike, of course).
Mike Kennerty was, as promised, a complete fucking dynamo. It felt like he was right in my face the whole fucking time (I think cordella's in love with him). He was whipping that ridic hair of his all around and rocking out, jumping all over the place. He wouldn't. stop. moving.
Nick Wheeler was dressed like an extra from a Meatloaf music video: ruffled white shirt open to the stomach, pinned with a cross-shaped brooch, a black vest, and changed his guitar about 100 times. His beloved double-neck came out during "The Wind Blows". I have to say that NOTHING beats seeing these guys from up close and in the flesh. I COULD SEE TYSON'S HAPPY TRAIL DOWN TO THE INDIVIDUAL HAIRS. And they were all extremely good-looking, like HOT AS TWELVE FUCKING BLAZING SUNS good-looking. Even more so than in any picture I've seen of them. Mike, especially. And Nick, whose preciousness made the outfit forgivable.
THE GAYEST BAND ALIVE lived up to their billing. Tyson alternated between kneeling in front of Nick and licking his guitar, to hip-thrusting at Mike and smacking his ass, to flirting with everything that moved and some things that didn't, while abusing about twelve mic stands and spreading his sparkle all over us. He was DAAAAZZZZLING. I totally, completely, utterly LOST MY FUCKING SHIT during "Move Along". Actually, I lost my fucking shit right at the beginning, when Chris started drumming the intro. I didn't care if I looked like a complete ass, this is what I go to shows for, to get crazy and not care about any-fucking-thing.
After "Move Along", Tyson brought out a piece of paper and told us he wrote us something, and that he was gonna read it and "Whip out those cell phones, Jakarta...cause I want the WORLD to hear this."
"People of Jakarta, we have something in common. I gotta talk to you about it. We are not afraid. I stand in front of you tonight a person who has refused to fear. Fear is the fuel for the weak. And are we weak? We are the strong few who wield our instruments and songs as ammunition to fight the good fight against the oppressors, the bastards that use bombs and terrorism to kill the innocent. Tonight is special because we celebrate merdeka! Tonight we celebrate your independence and the earth-shaking power that is freedom! Do you feel alive? Do you feel free? Our freedoms are the only wings we have to fly above the fear, so tonight we soar together and sing our freedom into the sky. We are not afraid! People advised us after the bombings to reconsider coming to Jakarta. People told us that we should be afraid. But this suggestion only added the backbone to our band to do something bigger than life. We are not afraid! We played for you tonight not just as a band. Not just as a band, but as the collective voice of Jakarta that screams into the night: FUCK THE TERRORISTS! I hope this gives you hell!"
TYSON FUCKING RITTER, MOTHERFUCKERS. AND HE *CLIMBED* THE RAFTERS AT THE SIDE OF THE STAGE DURING THE SONG!!! THE TECHS WERE PANICKING UNDER HIM, HOLDING ON TO HIS CABLES WHILE HE WAS UP THERE, SHIRTLES AND SPARKLY AND TELLING US ALL TO SING ALONG. BEST MOMENT OF THE NIGHT, AFTER THE SPEECH.
It was the last song, and my sister and I went home and I sat in front of the computer for a few hours and discovered Tyson's video blog entries and watched, hearts in my eyes, as he spoke of how the show he'd just played was the best show he ever played in the history of his band. He was visibly overwhelmed by the crowd and the reaction, and I just fucking love. him. so. fucking. much. And he told us to go give someobody a hug because "You need eight hugs a day to be happy".
THIS BAND. THIS FUCKING BAND. THEY MADE MY FUCKING LIFE AND I LOVE THEM.
I leave you a few choice quotes from Mr. Sparkle Motion himself:
• On dragonfruit: "This looks like it came out of a Dr. Seuss book."
• On the airport welcome: "Most surreal experience of my life. OF MY LIFE! And that's why • I got my glitter, I got my glitter!"
• On his "we are not afraid" speech: "It was the most heartfelt thing I've ever done."
• On hugging: "You need eight hugs a day to be happy, I read that somewhere."
And he had this to say at the very end: "I'm too wasted to continue, so....p-p-p-partay!"
ETA:
• This entry is now public. Feel free to link it to anyone who you think might benefit from the awesomeness that is AAR's courage and defiance--and how kickass my country really is.
• Rec me good AAR fic, communities, primers (aside from the bandom_primers one, which is 100 degrees of awesome), picspams, galleries, icons, whatevers.
• If anyone has rips from their two DVDs (I already ordered them on Amazon.com, but I am impatient, lol) I'd be very grateful.
• Rock on.