The Best Birthday Ever: Birds And Arrows, Free Electric State and Gray Young - Tir Na Nog - 07/21/11

(quick pre-note, pics in this entry are much smaller than usual, as there are way more pictures than usual. click the images to embiggen in a separate window!) 

This morning I woke up in my old bedroom in my parents house, as my mother had doctor appointments today which required her to have a chauffeur. As we sat at the kitchen table sipping our identical coffees (which we both destroy with countless Splendas and too-much-cream,) we chatted about the news and typical things. she then remembered suddenly to show me the scrapbook she has been making for my now 10 year old niece. (this is ironic, because I'm fairly certain my mom doesn't know it, but I've been keeping a journal for my niece since before she was born, telling her all about her life and stories about her family as well.) Mom brought out the scrapbook and it is filled with my niece's silly drawings and comics and stories she has written over the years. Mom smiled at me and asked, "guess who she gets this from." We didn't have to say anything. It got me thinking about the typewriter, something I had written about long ago, back before this blog was about shows and was just about music.

The best birthday present I ever received as a child was a baby blue, steelcase mini-Brother typewriter for my 6th birthday. I had decided, even then, that it was my destiny to be a writer. Pre-typewriter, there were stacks of my scribbly stories stuffed in drawers, I needed the typewriter so I could begin to transcribe them; even thought I probably didn't know what "transcribe" meant. I begged and prayed and hoped for months that it would be my "big" present. And it was; I got to work. Stories like "Robin Hamster", "The Hamster that went to Space" and "The Dog that ran through the Woods" came to life.

Other birthdays that stand out in my mind were my 12th, in which I had my first boy/girl "party" at Rock-O-la in Mission Valley; I had made the invitations myself to look like tiny pianos, to match my deeply obsessive committed relationship with my piano lessons. note: the only thing that has ever really mattered to me has been being able to express myself artistically... can you tell?

I spent my 21st birthday in the alcove stage right at the Berkley Cafe on Open Mic Blues night with Summer and Rob Roy. I had my first beer and hated it; didn't drink again until i was 32.

then around the age of 23, something happened. I started abhorring birthdays. I was horrendously depressed for weeks before the day actually came, then the day of I would find myself in bizarre circumstances like, lying by the creek half a mile into the woods behind my parents house, crying my eyes out about my grandfather or Vivien Leigh. I felt lost and behind everyone else's expectations. I felt like I was missing some big piece of the puzzle everyone else had figured out in their teens and I had no idea what I was looking for, much less how to find it. All I knew was that everyone else seemed to have it figured out, I didn't, and my birthday would come and I'd start taking this mental or financial or educational inventory on myself and my inner-critic would drop-kick the shit out of me. I was unbearable for years around birthday time.

There have been, so far, only 2 birthdays wherein I was not the most wretched, suicidal mess on the planet my 34th, which you'll hear about in a second and my 25th, when I was living in a townhouse beside my friends. My best friend J9, her husband, and my then boyfriend, Rob Roy, took me out to dinner to a teppanyaki place in Cary (I'm not kidding when i tell you how much I love that stuff.) They had crafted this entire scenario to make me believe that everyone on the planet had, in fact, forgotten my birthday. I got not a single call, save from my immediate family, telling me happy birthday. I was keeping it together to the best of my ability. After dinner, J9 didn't even offer to cover my birthday dinner.  I paid for myself. I didn't really care too much, I never assume anyone is going to buy me anything....  well except for my pop, because ...hey.

After dinner, J9 and her husband lead me to believe they were begrudgingly following me back to my townhouse to stop in to visit the girls next door and watch the Muppet Movie with them. I, in driving the BF and I back to the house, finally let myself unleash the pity party within and cried my heart out all the way home. We pull in, I notice J9's car out front, and I decide I need to go into my own house and hide for a bit until I calm down. Rob Roy was insistent I just stop in for a minute. after about 2 or 3 minutes of a misplaced screaming-match, (entirely my doing,) I finally agreed to walk over. Upon walking in the door, I hear a SURPRISE and every god damned body I think I had ever known was standing in the living room. I stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, letting it sink in; then proceeded to jump into the air and run around the room high-fiving everyone, as if i had just been called down to Contestant's Row on the Price is Right. It was my first and only surprise party; and trust me kids, I was surprised as hell. It was absolutely amazing.

This night was also, coincidentally, the second time in my life I ever ate "special" brownies, a gift from one of my closest friends at the time. I had a couple, then had a curious feeling that sent me searching for more things to nosh on; OH HEY LOOK, BROWNIES! I wound up eating, oh, say.... 5 or 6? there was a period of about 2 hours where I was afraid to move a muscle on the couch. I later found myself on the phone with a friend from New York, walking a circle of about a 4 foot radius on the back porch. god knows how long i was out there, but it felt like days.

Until my 34th, this past year, the surprise party birthday and the typewriter birthday were the two best birthdays I'd ever had.

I never really plan my own birthday things, I have a general idea of what I'd like to do, and I go along with whatever everyone else thinks is cool... (for example, 33rd was the year I FINALLY got a barbie cake! YEAH! Childhood dreams come true!) This year, months in advance, as I have gotten semi-addicted to my reverbnation fanpage (I can track local shows with much more obsessive voracity than via facebook invites or my google calendar,) I noticed my little Gray Youngsters were playing on July 21st at Tir Na Nog.... oh.... snap. you guys... my birthday is July 22.

Then, more information began to surface; Gray Young was to be playing with NOT ONLY Birds and Arrows, but ALSO Free Electric State.... are you kidding me? This was cosmic. Did they plan this or was it entirely coincidental? My three very favorite local bands playing the eve of my birthday, with the completely obvious possibility that my VERY favorite local band would be on stage as it in fact, did turn midnight and become my actual birthday? Too much, too good. The plan was set, I knew what I was doing for my birthday. I pretty much told everyone, "hey, this is where I'm going to be if you want to hang with me on my bday." I found myself for weeks, checking my iPhone calendar, counting down the days. I NEVER count down the days to my birthday. I HATE my birthday. this year, oh man... I LOVED my birthday.

I went to see Mom at her shop (she's a hairstylist, btw,) and she trimmed my bangs and gave me an ultimate bouffant Rhoda-esque flip-do. I squeezed into my ultra-retro Mod Cloth red dress and Roo, Patrick and I wandered down to Tir Na Nog a little early to have dinner and set up shop. The evening quickly became a blur of love, as people I adore started appearing in droves and the music I love the most began to fill the room.

Just an FYI, as I find myself writing this, I'm not going to be giving you a straight-up "this is who this band is and this is what they sound like" review. As many times as I've seen and reviewed these bands, I think you i know what's up... What I'm telling you this time is pure and simple "i am in love with these bands and this is how i felt."

First up, My sweet B&A. If you've been here before, you've heard me gush before. This is a band full or so much love, imagery, and depth; hearing these songs when I was already in so much of the greatest loving mood I can remember in years was sort of like the chocolate sprinkles on the banana split of love. True, not that many people had shown up yet, but I selfishly found myself appreciating this fact, as I managed to convince myself this was a private concert just for me. It is a well known fact that there are more than a few Birds and Arrows songs that turn me into a huge crybaby, so I found small, distracting ways (PBR) to distract myself form becoming too emotional. Still they got me, dammit. They always get me.

Between sets, I found more True Loves outside. and more people handing me birthday drinks; always welcomed.

Next, the Best Rock-n-Roll band I have known in real life. The band, in which every time I see them live, I think... how in the world am I lucky enough to know these people? Why are they not the biggest superstars in the universe? Seeing Free Electric State live is a treat every damned time. I can't remember if I ever told the story, but I'll tell it now: I was riding in my car back behind Hillsborough a while back and I hear one of the coolest most rockingest damned songs I think I ever heard on WKNC maybe ever - I pop on WKNC's site asap and see it is a song called "marshes" by FES. I turn my happy ass right around on Brooks Ave and drove straight to Schoolkids and bought the album. (This is why try and request it/bride for it to be played every time I see them.) FES are a kind of Rock that is better than pop or heavy or indie, it's like they have manifest destiny on this whole new territory of sound that no one even knows how to cross the river to get to yet. Another one of those bands I feel like I know a secret no one's figured out yet. I always wind up injuring my neck from all the banging/bobbing of the head when they play.

In later reviewing my pictures that I took this evening, I realize I somehow managed to take about 25 pictures directly of Nick. this does not at all surprise me as I have the most obvious, debilitating embarrassing crush on him ever.

oh, ffs, fes.

Between sets, the pictures of my friends and I become more and more embarrassingly drunk. I feel it in my bones... THEY ARE SETTING UP I CANNOT MISS ANY SECOND AT ALL... and i high-tail it inside for Gray Young.

At this point, I was; well... drunk.  Hey. It was my birthday, I am beyond allowed. I was overwhelmed by the amount of love and kindness all around me, the hugs and birthday shoutouts from my friends on stage, the sounds I felt so lucky to hear; then suddenly these guys get on stage and I basically just become an emotional waste of space. I am rocking out so hard, it all becomes a bliss blur. At one point, Chas steps off stage in front of me, I find myself flinging my arms around him and holding on for dear life as he plays... how this is even possible, I don't know. he didn't miss a beat, I can only assume this was my birthday present from him. (weeks later, at Slim's we encounter each other in the hallway leading to the patio. as we have still never spoken to each other intentionally and he very much has a girlfriend at the moment, i feel an overwhelming urge to thank him for this moment in my life [the birthday moment] and as i am walking towards him, i hold my finger to my lips as if to say "shhh" and hug him. for probably way too long. Mike Gray walks by and says,  "THAT'S a really long hug...." I die of embarrassment and run away. Dear Chas, that was me thanking you for the best birthday ever.)

Later review of the pictures I took this night reveal that i did, in fact, fill the remainder of my camera's memory card with some of the greatest pictures of the boys that I've ever taken.

So here's the best part. The BEST PART that i would have never guessed in a million years, not if you had given me a multiple choice option and the thing that actually happened was one of the options, this option would have been so good i would have never assumed something so magical could have happened. What happened next turned this into the greatest birthday I have ever had, trumping both the typewriter and the magic-brownie surprise party.

Throughout the evening those in the know, band members and close friends of band members approached me asking "did you find out what the last song is yet?" ...no i didn't. I didn't want to; note: I LOVE SURPRISES. i won't guess surprises because the surprise itself is so good, i would never jeopardize any chance i get to be surprised. I halfheartedly threw out "Oh, It's probably Tilling the Wind, they know it's my favorite and makes me all crybaby and shit." Everyone just smiled and nodded. I didn't hazard any other wild guesses, I intentionally avoided peeking at any setlists (however i did snatch it up later and it is on my show-wall with all the others, obvs.)

Back when this show was then officially announced on facebook and the invites were sent out; I casually joked that this was, in fact, my birthday party and "wouldn't it be cool if there was some awesome all-band singalong to a U2 song at the end of the night... haha."

you guys.
seriously, you guys.

As GY finished their set, they were then joined on stage by our sweet Andrea Connelly et. al., suddenly i feel several people standing around me, several of those friends of bands that had been taunting me with last song guesses throughout the evening. I find myself standing to the right of Joe Maz from IWTDI... He turns to me and says something like "did you figure it out yet?" and i say no. he says something like "get ready".  I then find myself alternating between Ultimate WOO-girl and the biggest weepy mess ever for the next few moments as the most beautiful thing I think I've ever witnessed happened in front of me.

I'll let the video speak for itself.


Bad (Birds & Arrows & Gray Young) For Karla from abbyladybug on Vimeo.


In Another video shot by someone I don't know, further back in the crowd, you can hear my initial "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" cry as I finally realize what's happening...

I cannot express to you fully how absolutely powerfully amazing this moment was for me. I know i gushed and hugged and cried all over everyone involved that night, and here it is over a month later and I still feel myself getting all sorts of choked up and weepy about it... but I have to say once again that I feel like the luckiest girl in the world and this was, in fact, the greatest birthday of my entire life thus far. Thank you all so much. thank you, thank you, thank you times infinity.

in other news, this gray young tattoo was my birthday present to myself. I am officially the SUPERFAN.

 

How could 35 ever top this??

Whatever Brains w/ The Invisible Hand - King's - 07/07/11; subset WB - Slim's 08/02/11

There are four types of shows I attend regularly. Here they are, listed in order of importance:
1) OMG YES I AM SO GLAD THEY ARE COMING I BOUGHT TICKETS THE DAY THEY WENT ON SALE NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM SEEING THIS SHOW. (Such bands include: U2, Morrissey, Gray Young, any strange/obscure mid-90s alternative band that I obsessed over in the heydays of 120 minutes; pre-matt pinfield.)
2) Everyone will not shut up about this band, all the people whose taste I respect opinions I trust are telling me to see this band, so I better go.
3) I am out, who is at Slim’s?
4) It’s my friends’ band, man. Give them a chance!

Whatever Brains sits someplace cradled between the limbo of 2, 3 and kinda 4. (4, only because the guys in WB are not necessarily ‘friends’ but people I have seen around the scene since the dawn of time, so it counts.)  Also, for a frame of reference: WB are the guys that opened for Fucked Up last year at Hopscotch; the guy wore the Eagle mascot costume … Remember? Yeah, me neither. Can you believe Hopscotch is less than a month away? Yeah, me neither.

Dear Raleigh: you are killing me with your awesome Thursday night shows. Quit putting all the chilled out alt-country shows on Saturday nights and save shit like Whatever Brains for a weekend. My body hates me. Still. And you see how far behind this ‘review’ is; that’s pain.

I don’t think this show was planned. In fact, I know it wasn’t. (This is the problem with waiting so long to write these things.) Jay mentioned it, so I tagged along. Me tagging along to awesome shows with Jay has been the theme of the last year of my life. Jay is the ultimate progenitor of Type 2 Above. Maybe I should just change that to “Jay said they were awesome, so I went.” In this case; Jay said I should go, so I went. While we waited between sets, we wandered down and got into trouble at Neps, whereupon I was approached by BShaw. I was then informed by BShaw that if I missed the next act, called “invisible Hands” that I would be “dead to him.” I suddenly realize BShaw belongs in the subset of Type 2 above, as well. I saw the band; therefore I am not dead.

i am warned of my imminent death.

YAY I DIDN'T DIE!

 These guys – WOW! From song one I was barely able to keep my jaw off the ground. Jay was texting me a lot saying things like “this guy is like Johnny Marr AND Morrissey at the same time” and then my brain exploded because I was looking at a smiths chimera. Oh god. I made a very specific, tipsy point to be downstairs during their load-out so that I may confront them on their awesomeness factor. I don’t remember much of the conversation, apart from the gushing and the dreamy foppishness of the LV’s (Adam’s) Morrissey-like coif.  

hard to get a non-blurry image because there was so much energy!

Invisible hand; so with all the Moz/Smith references thrown around up there, maybe I have already brainwashed myself into automatically comparing IH to something akin to a really pumped-up/darker Smoking Popes. (Remember them? They opened for Morrissey. Oh how I miss them!) They affect me in that same stop and pause way I felt the first time I heard, say, the Replacements or Sugar for the first time. The first time I really stopped and paid attention to David Byrne solo. That’s the vibe I got off these guys. They definitely had a really fun vibe and if anything, watching the bassist (Thomas) alone, you will find yourself dancing. I just discovered they are coming back to King’s Sept 29. I’m so there.

Then THESE guys.

I keep forgetting these guys are local. These guys went to Enloe for God’s sake. These guys apparently release more material than any local band in existence. These guys have no two songs that sound alike. I think these guys will play anywhere, anytime if you ask. Dear Whatever Brains, will you play my corporate luncheon next week? (I am kidding because they will do it because they are ridiculous and ruthless.)

I don’t know… what do you say? Whatever Brains is Punk? They are psychedelic Beatnik porn music? What are these guys? Every time I have seen them I stand there and I think; what the hell do you say about these guys? It always starts the same, everyone is kinda chilling and there are those 2 or three girls down front doing the one beer in the air/swing-n-sway/WOO!-dance. Then suddenly the songs are wilder and every song gets shorter and there are 50 shots of liquor lined up on the stage and people are screaming and losing their minds. Someone is naked. Something is on fire.

No, I don’t mean to detract from the music and say “oh this band is just a spectacle” no, that is not at all true. I honestly think they are so comfortable and strong with their tunes that they can afford a little playfulness. They can lose their minds because the music is solid, it’s almost as if they are the conjurers, they don’t really even necessarily need to play it, it’ll be there, but their bodies are the conduits. It’ll happen. So a little leeway is granted, sure, hang off of things and spit all over yourself, the music will hold its own.

co-starring British John as the Guest Vocalist

ALL MY FRIENDS ARE ROCK STARS... HURRRRR!!!11

 Some songs will play and you’ll be all like, “yeah okay, these guys are really into Sabbath.” And then 4 songs will play all together and they are all about 48 seconds each and you think “well, hell, when did this guy turn into Pete Shelley??” and then no, it’s the Cramps. No, Misfits. No, Agnostic Front. No… OH JUST WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE JUST GIVE ME A GODDAMNED BEER.

Jay moshing. god love 'im.

 And that’s when you suddenly realize you love them and there is no going back. And then it's over and you're drunk at Neptune's and it's entirely too late to be out on a Thursday. These guys.

PARTII; in which I suddenly find myself at yet another unplanned Whatever Brains show, almost a month later with Jay.

So the apparent “theme” of band practice has turned into; play a bit, drink a lot whilst playing; wander downtown and see some other band play much better; drink more. On one such apparent practice theme nights, the crew and I descended upon slims and our dear friends, Whatever Brains were playing YET AGAIN. It was a wee bit tamer this night, but only because it was Slim’s, so therefore everyone’s ears were burning out of their skulls and it was a late-nighter on a Tuesday. Not as many folks out.  

halfway through practice and the night out planning begins, you can see it in me eyes!

 However, the intimacy brought a level of psychosis out of these guys I had yet to see, I do believe. I wish every week I could see whatever brains just so I could study the reaction of the crowd vs. the level of intense madness it brings out of the LV. Like, a really shitty anthropologist.

can never be normal. not even for a second.

mad because he was not asked to guest-vocalize?

besties, united in our inability to take non-horrific pictures at rock shows.

I could write a really shitty thesis on this phenomenon. “Level of Lead Vocalist Vehemence in direct correlation to Audience participation and size” By: Dr. Karla Anne Bullshit-Maker-Upper.


I was married thrice, once to a Jeff Maker and then a Eugene Upper.
I’m kidding.
Although in my early 20’s I was engaged to a British dude with the last name “Bull”.
That, I’m not kidding about.
I was, once upon a time, almost Mrs. Karla Anne Bull. 

Life Review: July 22, 1977 - Present.

Not a show review, FYI. Completely personal; proceed with caution and an open mind.

One thing I can say for myself; I have lived a very complex and extraordinary life. On paper, sure, it may look a little lack-luster; I've traveled, I've loved, I've met some famous folks; but overall nothing mind-blowing to most. But the best part of me, one of the things I like the most anyway, is my ability to read through the lines and see the depth and magnitude of every single beautiful moment of life for what it is. I have been blessed with the gift of perspective. I have lived through enough trauma, death, pain, ecstasy, bliss and therapy to accept and face every decision I have ever made with no regrets. And trust me, I know I have made some terrible decisions, but I have learned one of the greatest lessons I think life has to teach us all: I am accountable for my own actions. I take full responsibility.

Sometimes I, and my closest friends, struggle to understand why I would knowingly allow so much pain or manipulation into my life; but one part of the lesson I only recently learned and understood about myself is that I look at every single person I have ever been gifted to meet as another opportunity for life to prove to me that humanity is good; That people are like me, that love is a priority and God works through us and not just around us. And when i get most down, when I get the most hurt or confused, it is because someone betrayed this belief. It is because someone forgot how precious their lives are and how much good and love they have to offer to the universe. I hurt *for* them, for squandering their lives and love, for taking time for granted. I hurt because sometimes others forget how easy it is to be kind.

So sure, I may not volunteer as much as I should, I may not tithe/donate as much as I could, I may not adopt hordes of stray dogs or attend church regularly; but I smile when I know I shouldn't. I give the seemingly very worst people every benefit of the doubt. I have no limit to my level of forgiveness. I never hold grudges. I give my love and my heart freely to anyone who asks it of me. I know this is the best part of me. This is the part I am sure that my closest friends and my truest love know all to well; they have watched me suffer for others so many times; be used, be hurt, be taken for granted. But I know I will never stop, my faith in the human heart is parallel to my faith in God. It is something I don't even bother to question; like gravity. It is as natural to me as breathing.

My 34th year on this planet has so far proven to be one of the most humbling and beautiful experiences of my life so far. In the past, birthdays become a horrendously depressing experience for me, spanning weeks before and rising to a frenzy of anxiety and anguish the day of; I start questioning my contribution to humanity. What have I done? I am no one's wife or mother; I am alone and in debt. I work a job that is completely inconsequential that only contributes to my struggling bank account. I tend to forget everything I just said before this paragraph and I get really selfishly down on myself. And that's all depression really is, you know? The ultimate manifestation of egotism. Who am I to think my life and my brain is really more important than anyone else's? I am not a mother, but I am a daughter. I am not a wife, but I am a friend. I am grateful to have a job and a car. I am thankful for the gifts I have earned or have been given.

Perspective is beautiful, but it can also be torture. the constant tickle in the back of your brain that reminds you of your impermanence, that every moment is sacred, to give everything at all times or you are wasting your space and your resources. When i start feeling idle, bored or useless; that's when i get down. So far, this year, and yes I know it's only been a couple days, I feel at peace. I feel this serene acceptance that whatever comes next; I am ready. I have been preparing my whole life for it. There is something in my heart telling me that this is going to be the best and most significant year of my life. Maybe this is the year I finally figure out what I want to be when i grow up. Maybe I finally feel the truest love of my life. Maybe I win the lottery. Maybe I die. The possibilities are endless and I am ready and I am sure it will be amazing and I will be in control when it happens. I will be okay.

I know I am a few shows behind; but this needed to come out of me first. I needed to make it here before I could continue. The reviews will continue and we will return to our regularly scheduled program shortly. thank you for being here, for reading this, for being my friend, for loving me, for tolerating me, for needing me, for never taking me for granted, for understanding me, for surprising me, for being a part of my life no matter how seemingly insignificant. I only hope I can one day find the voice and strength to express to the world how grateful I am to be a part of it; to be a part of you all.

God bless and thank you for a wonderful birthday.
xoxo
karla anne

Come Birthday With Me and My Three Fav-o Bands!

Hey all - if you've ever wanted to Party down with me, my god, here is your chance to see me lose my ever-loving mind with bliss... this coming Thursday night at Tir Na Nog my three favorite local bands are on the lineup: GRAY YOUNG, FREE ELECTRIC STATE, and BIRDS AND ARROWS!

But the best part is? At the stroke of midnight, signifying the turn of the 21st into the GLorious day of July 22nd, It shall be my birthday. I have it on supposedly good authority that The Gary Youngs will be on stage at this time (FINGERS CROSSED!) So please, join me!


BEST LBLB EVER!

REPRESENT!

Fucked Up with JEFF the Brotherhood - King's - 06/28/11

I’m struggling to decide if I should explain my brief absence and dramatically pathetic audio post from a few weeks ago.  I thought if I didn’t acknowledge it and pretend I didn’t have a little breakdown of sorts, then maybe you all would forget, too… No one forgets. I don’t know why I assume Raleigh is forgiving or compassionate. Maybe it is, maybe I’ve aligned myself with the last handful of people in town who can tolerate my depression. Maybe the rest of you are too busy worrying about your own to worry about mine. Maybe the rest of you are too busy being pretentious assholes/people with actual lives to even bother to read this blog; this is the most likely situation. Or rather, the most likely situation is that no one cares. I get so worked up worrying about what people think of me when the truth of the matter is, no one has to worry about me but me and everyone else is just too worried about themselves to care if I’m sad for no reason or not.

 This is, if you didn’t know, a personal blog, first and foremost. This began as an exercise in passion. Just to see if I could do it, really. I can do it. I just lost focus for a minute. I let outside influences or competitions or 10 pounds blow me out of the water and I’m useless. Then I hear the right song or I see the right people or I spend the right amount of time alone and resting and I’m fine. So that’s what I did; I’m fine. I was sad for a minute, now I’m fine. I’m slowly emerging from my cave of sorrows and seeing some damned shows.

 Another one of those shows I knew would be an utter shitshow throwdown in which i trucked up into alone, assuming I'd know everyone there - wrong. I knew a good handful of people on sight (the usual Kings Cast of Characters) but not a lot of "good friends"; and then those always ever present two or so ex-dudes or hookups that make me want to smash my face into the wall because i can't facepalm hard enough. then that handful of guys that hover around and stare at me, but never speak, like i am so gorgeous and intimidating. whatever. I updated my facebook status as something like "Total pickleparty up in Kings right now. dudes like to rage, hey." ...people liked it; dudes liked it.  It was true. I was in the extreme vaginic minority at this show.

I eventually ran into my friend Christopher, with whom I shared the majority of my commentary with, he had some good lines which i will probably paraphrase. aka steal.

First up was JEFF the brotherhood. not really sure what to describe these guys as; as soon as I thought i had it pegged like a minimal punk outfit, they busted into this random-ass new wave-ish sounding song, which made me instantly become brainwashed into believing I liked them a whole lot. But then it was back to their original sound. They ended (ish) their set with a song that had lyrics to the effect of "my mom told me i could grow up to be anything i wanted, so i grew up to be A WOMAAAAAAAAAAN" (something like that.) and I had a very confused puppy look/head tilt for a minute there. Chris was back behind me so i couldn't necessarily confer with him what I had heard. I can barely hear anyway, so I just took it as it was. This guy might be trans, which of all people, you know I am down with (i have 6 straight friends, you know who you are.) but its best not to assume. I know all about art for art's sake, so hey, maybe this line was written in character. I don't know why I am harping about this one line so much, it just stuck out to me a lot.

The long and short of this is; I was very interested in this band, and I would be interested to see them again in about a year to assess what kind of band they morph into next. I think they need to decide who they are a little more, which is odd to say as they have been picked up by labels and stuff. Bully for these guys! but Chris said something, what was it? something like "these guys are like white stripes meets mudhoney" and then we had to talk about Daisy Chainsaw for a bit because Katie Jane Garside is my hero in every way and I told them how I am trying to subconsciously manipulate one of my current band projects into something very Queen Adreena-esque. God willing. 

So, Fucked Up. This is not a band I rock on a consistent rotation on my ipod, this is a band I knew would put on a tip top extremely high energy show that was not to be missed. And I knew that whatever side of the fence i was leaning towards on this band seeing them live would push me over one side or t'other.

amazing Chris-quote before the show started: "fucked up is like iggy pop screaming over the Who's Next." god damned brilliant. why cant i come up with lines like that? No, I have to use lines that include the word "pickleparty". I will never be a real writer.

So after my toe-demolishing experience at 506 with Guitar Wolf and being so irritatingly annoyed with the testosterone explosion of rage that engulfed the first 15ft in front of that stage, I was looking forward to a hardcore show at Kings again; a venue I knew and trusted to take care of its women-folk that needed to be handled a little more gently. no such luck. I think, although I can't be sure, that this was an all ages show. That, or i have finally reached that old age where anyone under the age of 24 looks like a 17 year old to me. God help me. So, the problem here was, i think, the immaturity and overall show-ignorance of the crowd. There was no room for girls at this show. Every time i tried to get anywhere into the middle of it, i was getting full-on toe-crushed and elbowed. I don't know if it's because I straight-up got spoiled at Valient Thorr, or maybe Fucked Up just brought that level of spasticity out of these guys, but this was not a lady-friendly show.

That being said, however, the performance itself was pretty awesome. I toppled over the fence onto the "fan fo lyfe" side after this show. and it honestly wasn't necessarily because of the music alone, which was, obviously pro; but because of the overall genuine-ness of Damian Abraham. Every preconceived notion you would have about this man on sight alone is shitty and wrong of you. tsk! He has a vocal prowess and confidence bigger than his magnificently shiny man-tits. It's like he had an invisible magic wand to whip the crowd into a manic frenzy with the slightest word or gesture. he let the crowd sing half of almost every song, holding his mic out to the sea of sweaty dudes and letting them join in the band. For the tiniest moment, every boy within the first 5 of feet of the stage was an unofficial member of Fucked Up. It was very adorable, in a really gross, sweaty way.

The best part of this show, as someone not quite as familiar with their live shows, and maybe this is standard, but how appreciative these guys were. Between almost every song, Damian made sure to tell the crowd over and over how happy they were to be here and be with us and to share their music with us. I really hope these guys never lose this. I really like bands with an understanding of how easy it is for it to all just go away.

Other than Monotonix, I've never seen any other band take advantage of the SPACE of Kings the way Fucked Up did. That was pretty rad. After all was said and done, Damian jumped into the crowd and hugged anyone who wanted a big sweaty grateful hug. I sho-nuff took advantage of this opportunity.

Speaking of "real writers"; read a for-real review of the show here written by my friend Grayson Currin:

Fucked Up: Live, sweaty, glorious

STYX - Koka Booth Amphitheatre - 06/23/11

It was never my intention to go see Styx. I didn't buy tickets, I wasn't counting down the days... I didn’t even know there was such a concert happening; and neither did you. This was a corporate sponsored event, arranged and paid for by one company as an appreciation celebration for their employees. I don’t think it’s wise of me to say which company, and to be honest, I had never heard of this company before the event, but this company is very awesome to its employees, let’s just say that much. Styx is a band that I, as a child growing up in the 80s, took for granted that I just happened to know every song. It would have never occurred to me to go see them play live, until the opportunity just happened to fall into my lap.

This show is a little different than any other review I’ve written – I didn’t see this show, I worked it. My amazing friend, Michele, usually works backstage part time for some local venues such as the DPAC, Walnut Creek or Koka booth, and was unable to work this function as she was going out of town (ironically, to see U2. Ahhhhh!) She called and asked if I would be interested in giving it a shot, as she knew I had lots of backstage/show experience from college and from being an overall music/show nerd.  I immediately jumped on the opportunity; not only was the money good, but the whole idea of it – backstage with rockgods and Superstars of my 80s childhood? Mr Roboto? Dude, Cool.

I arrived at Koka Booth around 11:30am and met up with Dave, whom everyone calls “Clem” (shortened last name nickname) and who is, without a doubt, one of the kindest, hardest working dudes I have ever met. I instantly wanted to cuddle him and do whatever he asked of me. He promptly introduced me to Buck and told me my job for the day was to be Buck’s right-hand; basically do whatever he needed of me. There was about 20 minutes or so of running in circles, following people around, wondering what in God’s name was going on, and then I was told to sit and wait - So I did. I sat on the back porch overlooking the lake, watching the geese, hanging out with really sexy beardy tattooed stagehand guys. I was then taken to one of the dressing rooms and told this was “my room” I was then given “the list”. Basically I was in charge of the hospitality/snacking room for the band. I prepped it, I was told to keep it stocked, and for the next several hours, my main job was to stand nearby and be all like “you guys need anything?” 

click to embiggen. why NO EVIAN? I wonder.

So here’s the interesting part of all this… so of all the things on this list, which was incredibly specific, mind you, once the band did actually make an appearance about an hour and half past when I was expecting them, they only drank coffee; their own coffee. And when I say their own coffee, I literally mean STYX COFFEE.

i had some, not gonna lie. this shit was GOOD.

They also had a couple slices of papa john’s pizza, which was actually an afterthought and not a request. So there I was, stressing over the burners under this specific-ass vegetable soup, stirring it and worrying about the ice levels over the seltzer water and the V8 juice, and naw, they hung out in there for like 10 minutes, tops.

I stole a butterfinger mini from Styx while i waited. THE SECRET IS OUT.

 

First in the room, and then later first to ride his bike around past me, was Sir Tommy Shaw. (So hot - I hate using the word sexy, but. Dammit, yeah. Dude is sexy.) He popped in, grabbed a bottle of water and ate a couple grapes and went on his way. Next in was J.Y. Young; shit was getting serious. Dude, I am like, hanging with Styx. However, not once did I lose my cool. I was all smiles and flirts and “do you need anything?” – He drank coffee and chilled out. Next in, my new bestie - Chuck Panozzo. Faaaabulous! Chuckie, for those not in the know, is an openly gay man living with HIV, activist, and is a hellaciously talented bass player in one of the hardest working bands in the biz. We chatted about the landscape, ducks, and food. At one point he took a little nap in the overstuffed chair in the room... Adorable! Later after the show we did the whole big-hug-double-cheek-kiss-ciao thing; love that dude.

Showtime! The guys hit the stage hard, like it was an arena full of 20,000 people and not just a corporate retreat with maybe 150 people in attendance total? They gave it 110%. I wasn’t able to watch most of the show, but I certainly heard it (my room was about 10 feet from the stage right entrance, outside) and I got to sneak down a couple times during the set to watch from the wings. Completely surreal. While the band was on stage I got to speak with and hang out with the band’s assistant tour manager, Jason. This guy was too much; Very busy, very silly, very sweet, very cute – those things. I was all trying to keep my game face on, but there was definitely some flirting going on there. My next setup was for the sandwich/cheese/post-show trays, which, again, didn’t get touched. But here is the good thing – Jason did pack up everything he could and took it on the bus with them; that’s good, I was getting all stressed because dammit, they paid for it! Take it! Don’t waste that shit! They did; Awesome.

So I didn’t get to hear/see Roboto, I don’t think they do that song live, probably. I don’t know. But I did get to hear Lorelei and TooMuch Time on My Hands and Lady; I didn’t realize that I knew practically every Styx song ever until I realized I knew every styx song ever, apparently. Best moment: during the breakdown of “Come Sail Away” (‘we'll try best that we can …to carrrrry onnnn!’)I had to stop Jason and be all like “Dude, sometimes don’t you just have to stop and ROCK OUT? And be all like, ‘Damn, I am hanging with Styx… ROCK AND ROLLLLLLL!’” (I guess that song will just always make me think of Freaks and Geeks and get me all sentimental) and he said something about you know, oh hearing the same songs for 4 or 5 years or something, which I totally understand. Then they ended the show on an encore of “Renegade” and then I found myself getting all philosophical and thinking “Dude, sometimes you have to just stop and rock out... You just have to stop… and rock…. rock out….” 

Very cool guys. Very cool.

Then as suddenly as it was over there was a swoop in, a swoop out …parts of the stage and members of the band are flying all over and all the beardy tattoo dudes who had disappeared earlier all reappeared… there was a clusterfuck of wild activity for about an hour and my feet were bleeding they were so blistered (but I was oblivious to this until later when I tried to go to bed and I couldn’t even cover my feet with a sheet because they were so tender) – quick goodbyes were said to new friends; the band is playing in town again in September; I won’t assume I’ll be asked back to work, but I certainly am going to attend and rock out. See the ‘other side’ of Styx, as it were.

Then almost as soon as it began, it was all over and I was riding in my little car back to my little house in my little town while the Styx Caravan of Extreme Awesomeness rolled on through the night; off to melt faces in another part of the world. I can’t remember a time when I slept as hard and as soundly as I did that night; after all was said and done, it was a 12 hour day. Worth it. I had a lot of fun. This was easily one of the better experiences of my whole life. I really hope I get to work this kinda thing again some time.