I dragged Mark to the venue early so we could get a good spot in line for tonight’s show. I don’t get it, though. When we got there, there were a few people sitting at the entrances to some of the lines, but other lines were completely empty and people were just hanging out and sitting around in the general area. Why get there an hour early only to hang out in the vicinity of the line? Not that I’m complaining, ’cause I just walked up to a completely empty line and plopped my butt down.

And how did this work out for me?

VERY WELL, THANK YOU. Mark and I were on the rail, just a few feet to the left (if you’re facing the stage) of center, for the whole damn show.

Tab the Band was the first opener, playing a handful of songs. They weren’t too bad. I’d see ‘em if they came to Asheville, I guess. I’ll at least check them out online.

Then BRMC came on. MmmmBRMC. Ten shows now, and not a single disappointment. They played nine songs–666 Conducer, Berlin, Took Out a Loan, In Like the Rose, Ain’t No Easy Way, Steal a Ride, Shuffle Your Feet, Six Barrel Shotgun and Spread Your Love–and rocked. My only wish is that they’d been a little louder. I left their set at V Fest with my ears feeling like they were stuffed with cotton (and probably they should have been; I have a really great set of earplugs…and I always forget to bring them). Tonight, though, wasn’t quite there. I guess they save the volume for STP. :)

God, I love BRMC. And they played “Steal a Ride!” And I’ll tell ya, “Ain’t No Easy Way” never gets old live. Never. It kicks you in the ass every time.

Robert Levon Been, BRMC:

Robert Levon Been with his hat for the final song:

Peter Hayes, BRMC:

After them, we had a looooooooooong wait for Stone Temple Pilots. More than an hour and twenty minutes! But Ho. Ly. Shit. What a fantastic fucking show. It was loud and intense and they were totally “on.”

Scott Weiland, STP:

Scott Weiland, STP:

Robert DeLeo:

STP:

STP:

No more shows till Saturday, when we catch BRMC/STP again, this time with Jake and his girlfriend. (Tonight we had Mark’s son Neil and his girlfriend with us. Sort of. They were a couple rows behind us.)

Wow. I’m looking forward to Saturday.

(Oh, one final note: wow. Another really, unexpectedly tame audience. What’s going on, people?!)

Photos care of Mark, who took pictures, so I didn’t have to.

NIN just announced more North America tour dates for 2008. They’ll be coming to Greenville, SC, November 1st—to the Bi-Lo Center, which Mark has always told me has great acoustics (but no one I want to see ever goes there. Till now.) I was going to go to the Deerhunter show here in Asheville that night, but…never mind!

(Hahaha. Mark just came up the stairs: “When do they play Nashville? Is that November, too?”

“Halloween.”

“What day is that?”

“Friday. They’re going from Nashville to Greenville. We could go from Nashville to Greenville, too, if we were feeling froggy….but we’ll have just driven 12 hours on the 28th (up from New Orleans). Not that that’s stopped us from getting back in a car. I should just take that whole week off.”

“I wouldn’t have any vacation left for Christmas.”

“I don’t usually take vacation then.”

“I’d be giving my Christmas vacation to NIN.”)

I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to report on the Duluth, GA, show. We had floor tickets, and even though by the time we got there and got our wristbands the regular ticketholders were being let in, we started the show just one row back from the rail in front of Justin Meldal-Johnsen. (Sorry, Mark, for being so, um, testy up till then.) We had a good time meeting and talking with people around us, and then Deerhunter came on. I enjoy Deerhunter—I’m developing an appreciation for droning bands with unintelligble vocals. (In fact, I prefer the newer album from Black Angels over their older one mainly because the lyrics on the early one are too easy to make out. Not that I want all of the music I listen to to be like that, but there are times and places when I do want that sort of thing.) I also like how Deerhunter’s Bradford Cox deals with pissy NIN fans, from the plastered on rictus grin to the “You guys are awesome, Thank you!!! Especially you in the middle flicking me off! You rule!” Mark was disappointed that Bradford wasn’t wearing the cheerleader uniform like he had the night before. This time Whitney Petty, one of the guitarists, was wearing it. A few songs in, Mark said, “Was there a girl in the band last night?” Haha—he hadn’t noticed, even though she was closest to us from where we were sitting.

They finished up and we all went back to standing around waiting for NIN. The ladies we’d met got enormous plastic cups of Coke, which I was sure I’d end up wearing. And then the lights went down.

I was expecting the crowd to surge forward and squish us all together when “999,999″ started. Or “1,000,000″ even. But nope—we had a disconcerting plentitude of personal space for most of the show. It got kinda rowdy during “March of the Pigs,” “Gave Up” and “Terrible Lie,” but the rowdiness was fleeting. I would have preferred a rougher pit.

(Mark did, though, nearly get in a fight he didn’t set out to start. He was prepared to finish it, too, but fortunately didn’t have to.)

Trent surprised us with a few songs: “The Frail” led into “The Wretched” instead of “Closer” (yay!). He threw in “Down In It,” which was all right—I’m kind of worn out on that one, but it’s still neat to have a surprise in the setlist. But then “Reptile!” “REPTILE!” 31 songs altogether, and I spent the whole thing (when I wasn’t annoyed at the two women near us who kept talking to each other and playing with their cameras/cell phones) wishing the band wouldn’t ever get around to the final song and leave. It was fantastic.

Afterward, we went to the Loafing Leprechaun, which is now going to be a tradition for any show I go to Gwinett Arena for.

Oh, and when I saw the new list of NIN tour dates this morning, I went, “Omg! They’re going to be in New Orleans October 25th! WE’RE going to be in New Orleans October 25!” It’s early and I have a headache, that’s my excuse….

I’m not gonna grow up to be a concert photographer, but since we went with reserved seats for this show, I figured I’d give it a try. Apologies in advance!

Here’s the stage.

Before the show started, they lowered a rack of lights and…

Oh look at our shitty view! A lot of us at our end of section F (for “fail”) scrambled to find places where we might actually see something besides legs. Thank god they raised the rack a couple songs in; otherwise I would have been really pissy by the end of the show. These were presale tickets! They were supposed to be great seats!

That’s what I get for getting seats, though, huh? Yeah, yeah, yeah. I looked longingly at the people on the floor…

…and decided that despite the road rash and bruises and my inappropriate footwear (canvas slip-on/slip-off sneakers that will surely get lost in the pit if I don’t wrap tape around them to hold them to my feet) I will not hang back by the soundboard tomorrow night in Duluth after all. I want to be smushed up with a bunch of sweaty, screaming, jumping, danging, singing, losing-their-minds people. With seats you just feel so…isolated. I do, at least. If I’m not smushed in with people, I am annoying cognizant of my individualness. I’m a unit. A single, detached entity.

In the crowd, that awareness slips away (usually to the floor, where it gets stomped on and requires a few days recovery afterward).

…um.

So anyway…like I said, after they raised the light rack, we had a good view:

And I was excited to be facing the side of the stage. I’d already seen the full effect of the show on Sunday, so tonight I got the super-cool “behind the scenes” view—just how do they pull off some of their coolest effects? It turns out it’s a three-screen thing, with a normalish screen at the far back and two curved screens (more like metal meshes) that can come down around the band. Here’s how they pull off making it look like there’s a torrential downpour coming down on the band:

Because the front two screens are meshes, wherever “video”—or whatever you’d call it—isn’t projected, you can see right through to whatever’s behind it, like the band, and more rain, and finally the backmost screen, with yet more rain. From a front-on view, it’s amazing.

This is the set for the Ghosts-mix version of “Piggy,” which is fantastic. From the front you see some very cool pulsing effects. When I saw them in Baltimore, I’d had no idea they were layered like this.

Below is a shot from “Only” —layers of white noise. The song opens with “I’m becoming less defined, as days go by, fading away, and well you could say I’m losing focus…,” and the white noise works for it very well.

Also, the screen is heat-sensing, so Trent is able to clear away white noise with his body movements. Very cool. (Earlier in the show, at the end of “The Greater Good,” a stage hand came out with a stage light and “washed” the mess on the screen off by shining it up and down the screen like it was a big paint brush. Sorry—no pics of that.)

Below is the effect for the chorus of “Only.” When you’re looking at this straight-on, you more or less just see Trent singing and static along the bottom. The band is there on the stage, but the lighting—when you’re viewing this from the front—makes the band more or less disappear into the shadows. This is while Trent is singing, “There is no you, there is only me. There is no you, there is only me.”

I tried to get a picture of Josh setting the drum sequencer at the beginning of “Echoplex,” but it was just a white blob…so you’re stuck with my crappy description (and I’m working from memory, so if I get a detail wrong…whatever. I hit my head earlier today.). There’s a screen with three rows of white-outlined boxes (with a line snaking through, but that’s not important—looks cool, but not important). When Josh puts his hand out toward a box, it turns solid red—and it adds a beat to the drum sequence, so he’s essentially programming the drum sequencer via this giant screen on stage. It’s kind of like that piano Tom Hanks played with his feet in Big (if you saw Big when it first came out, not after you could buy those pianos and no one thought you were cool if you did) only…cooler. ‘Cause it’s NIN, and not Tom Hanks.

Anyway. One more shot, from “In This Twilight”:

As this song ends, each band member, one by one, is spotlighted. He stops playing, raises a hand in farewell, and leaves the stage. It’s brilliant. Really a powerful way to end the show.

I’m stoked that the setlists this tour are so heavily focused on the latest three albums: four songs from Ghosts, six from The Slip and seven from Year Zero. Seventeen songs altogether from material released over just the last year and a half. And omg it’s fantastic! I love my NIN CDs, but they don’t compare to how they do these things live.

Tomorrow…. Georgia!

Writing
Work is going well on Mercy. I wonder why I procrastinate so much (every freaking day!) when, once I finally buckle down, I really enjoy working on it. I ARE MAH OWEN BIGGIST OBSTICKLE.

Having a problem with how to start it, too—not a fan of my original opening. So I’m working on scenes in random order, with the question of how to kick the story off not too far back in my mind. If a brilliant idea doesn’t pop up on its own, I’m thinking of writing a new opening every day for a week and see where that puts me. But not this week. This week I’m going to continue working on scenes randomly.

Cycling
I did 8 miles Saturday, 9.6 on Sunday, and today was supposed to be 12, but like a dufus I missed my turn-off and ended up with 13.5…which is pretty damn cool. Next Sunday you can bet I’ll be pedaling into the Ultimate Ice Cream parking lot for a milkshake.

And after not toppling over for a while, I toppled over today. Twice. Sigh.

Shows
We saw The Warlocks and The Black Angels at The Grey Eagle Friday night. Prior to the show I’d liked The Warlocks better, but The Black Angels won me over live. Their drummer, Stephanie Bailey, KICKS ASS, and I liked how they changed up who played what. They had a few problems—something was going on with the keyboard near us in the beginning, they seemed to have trouble finding room for themselves on the stage, and at one point during the encore Alex Maas’s guitar got unplugged—but none of it took away from the overall show. I’d see them again.

The Warlocks put on a good show, but I’m not sure I’d see them again. Maybe if they hadn’t opened with my favorite song (”Zombie Like Lovers“) (and it was really good) (but it was like coming right away, yet the intercourse goes on and on) (this is, of course, far more my problem than theirs)…. They also weren’t as compelling to watch, even with Bobby Hecksher’s kibby fits.

This was also our first time at The Grey Eagle. Not a bad place. The stage is maybe two feet high, no barrier. They’ve got a bar and a kitchen. No complaints about the sound. Mark’s going back to see Custard Pie on the 18th, when Jake and I go to The Orange Peel to see the “Local Metal Showcase II.”

This was the last concert on our schedule till July.

July!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111eleventyone. What am I going to do with myself?

I have a couple Devotchka albums, and while I have to be in the right mood to put one of them on, when I am in that mood, Devotchka is perfect. Their music is like nothing else (or at least like nothing else in my collection). You can tell I’m just a casual fan because all I wanted to hear at the show last night were the hits—and I got what I wanted! “How It Ends,” “Temptation,” “We’re Leaving,” “You Love Me,” some I’m probably just not remembering right now….  I’d been interested in seeing what they were like live, and they’re quite good. They’ve got it together. Loved the theremin, tuba, upright bass—omg, I love the accordion with the glittery TOMMY down the side of it. They played to an enthusiastic crowd last night, too—sometimes maybe a little too enthusiastic: “You guys are awesommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmme!” rang out during a quieter moment in a song.

When they launched into the encore, a girl in sequins came out to climb, spin and do splits in two red curtains hanging down at the front middle of the stage. That was a fantastic touch. I had my heart in my throat a couple times watching some of her movies. (Check out one of her splits in the pics below.)

For the final song, Basia Bulat and the rest of her band came out (two members of her band were already on stage and had been for much of Devotchka’s set, providing extra violin and cello parts) for “You Love Me,” and although Basia didn’t do much for me as the opener (she and her band were fine; it just wasn’t my thing), this final song with Devotchka was perfect—a great, great way to end the show. Did I say “great” yet? I totally meant “great.”

But as with Liars, Devotchka aren’t on my “definitely have to see again” list, just the “glad I got to see them!” one. It comes back to me being just a casual fan, so I’ll continue to buy their albums, but I’ll stick with listening to them when I’m in that Devotchka mood.

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Mark and I went to the Rocket Club in West Asheville for the first time last night to catch Liars, who came here for this show between Radiohead gigs. Local duo King Tut opened—they weren’t really our thing, so we won’t be looking to catch them on other nights.

Liars were fun, but not fun enough to make my “I’d see them again” list. I like their music better recorded than live.

(Now with crappy cameraphone photos!)

“Heaven” at the Masquerade in Atlanta is one scary ass place. It’s on the third floor—the bouncy third floor. The Loft, also in Atlanta and also on an upper floor, is much more solid; I didn’t appreciate how much more until last night. When the Masquerade floor was bouncing at its scariest worst, I thought, “Well, I like Apocalyptica, but if I had to die at a concert, I wish it were for a band I really really liked.” hector_rashbaum said she had some floor fear going on, too.

The floor held, and Apocalyptica put on a great show.

I have two of their albums—Inquisition Symphony, which I love, and Reflections, which I never listen to because they started adding in other instruments with that one, and I was all about the cellos. (”Cello, cello, cello, cello, cello, cello.”) However, the band added a drummer to their line-up in 2003, and officially made him part of the band in 2005, so I got to experience cellos with drums at last night’s show, and I thought it worked great.

They also brought Fuel’s Toryn Green along to handle vocals for a few songs—”I Don’t Care,” “I’m Not Jesus,” and a German cover of David Bowie’s “Heroes”—and I liked that, too!…though I’m glad it was just for a few songs. I prefer when the cellists are the frontmen—and great frontmen they are! Neither Eicca nor Perttu spent much time sitting on their cello thrones. They were all over the stage instead. Paavo spent more time near, if not on, his cello chair, but he came down to the stage a number of times, too, and was aces at getting the crowd riled up. Antero only got up from his chair to bow or leave…yet I’m all <3 <3 <3 Antero today. He’s The Man of Mystery with his little dark glasses, black suit and serious expression (serious except when Eicca would come over and coax a smile or laugh out of him).

Perttu and Eicca handled all of the talking to the crowd, and they were a lot of fun. And they looked like they were having fun, which sometimes more than anything makes a show.

Although it wasn’t my favorite show of the year (there’s a lot of fierce freakin’ competition for that spot this year), I would definitely see them again, just…hopefully not at the Masquerade. COME TO ASHEVILLE, CELLO BOYS!

(Cello, cello, cello, cello, cello, cello)

(How bad is it that I come away from an Apocalyptica concert with a Who song stuck in my head?)

(Cello, cello, cello, cello, cello, cello)

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The Man Man show tonight (er…last night I mean) was SO MUCH FUN. I’d had no idea what they’d be like live; I’d just hoped that they wouldn’t use too many backing tracks and worried that the material wouldn’t hold up to the albums, but omg—they are fantastic live (and no backing tracks—nice). And I got to hear every song I’d hoped to, save one: “Young Einstein on the Beach,” which is just a short little thing anyway. Maybe they’ll do it next time I see them (for there WILL be a next time!)

And I love the way they had the stage set up. Up at the front of the stage, there was a low electric piano with a bench and a mic for the lead singer, and this was set up pointing right. There was also a drum kit, set up pointing left—thus the drummer and the singer were facing each other, and really, they were right up at the front of the stage. Just behind them were the other three guys, with all their various instruments (and there were quite a few—three sets of keyboards, more drums, a pole with all sorts of percussion things, wooden xylophone, saxophone, melodica, little plastic horns, a flute–I can’t remember what else. Tons of stuff. It was such a great show!!!

I was in the center, down in the front, and there was some moshing, which was fine—I don’t mind it—but there was also this giant dickhead who, by virtue of being A GIANT DICKHEAD, managed to breed a lot of camaraderie between everyone who wasn’t the dickhead as we shoved and blocked and yelled at him. (He got punched in the face a time or two as well, and at one point the guy I’d shoved myself up against to help block the dickhead grabbed him with an arm around his neck and tried to move him the fuck out of the area. NEXT TIME, MR. DOUCHE, DRINK MOAR BEFORE THE SHOW…enough to pass the fuck out before the headliner even comes out. Tx.)

And I really should be asleep right now—I got three hours last night, and I had to drive four hours tonight to get to the show (and at one point my eyes were so tired I pulled into a gas station for a 10-minute nap. Geesh). BUT I CAN’T GO TO SLEEP. In 38 minutes, something will be revealed on NIN.com.

I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I tried.

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Six shows between one Saturday and the next—that’s my new definition of a perfect week. Tonight (—or last night, at this point) was Kenny Wayne Shepherd at the Cherokee Survivors Motorcycle Rally. I managed to get up at the barrier despite making it to the fairgrounds just ten minutes before the show started. It was kind of a crappy barrier—so high that the chick next to me could just about see over it. The show only lasted an hour and twenty minutes or so, but it was still damn good.

Getting home took a little longer than it should have—we had a high-speed police chase go around us just outside of Waynesville and a few minutes later found ourselves stopped on the highway thanks to the resulting accident. We hope the guy just crashed his own damned car and didn’t completely ruin some other people’s night, but we couldn’t tell. After twenty minutes of sitting, the police got the road blocked off so we could all turn around and go the wrong way back up the highway, then we had to figure out our way back to I-40.

And I haven’t blogged about it, but the Charlotte, Athens and Knoxville Black Rebel Motorcycle Club shows were THE BOMB. Particularly Knoxville, where they started out with a set list already two songs longer than we’d gotten on previous nights, then took a couple requests during the encore, bringing it to I think 27 songs for the night. The sound was great, the guys were in a good mood (even though Robert came back for the encore with red knuckles and a Band-Aid that hadn’t been there when he’d walked off the stage), and the crowd was strange (very strange), but that led to some funny moments—it was the perfect end to our short week of following them around.

And I had Robert’s bass right up in my face twice that night. Bliss.

I kept forgetting to take pictures at the BRMC shows, and most of what pictures I did take came out blurry. All I have is this pic of Peter with the trombone during “Promise”:

And some (not so fantastic) pics from the Kenny Wayne Shepherd show:

Wow, yesterday was all sorts of excellent. We went to CD Central in Lexington, KY, for Record Store Day. I bought three CDs and walked out with a bag stuffed with free goodies. Then The Duke Spirit played in the parking lot, in beautiful, sunny weather. Mark and I liked them a lot—good music and just a generally good-spirited band.

Just as they were done, two-thirds of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club showed up with acoustic guitars. For the first few songs, Robert looked half dead—possibly even like he was coming down sick. Turned out he’d just woken up. By the time Peter said they’d do one more song, he was starting to perk up, and we actually got three more. (Or four? It’s a blur.) It started raining while they were doing “Mercy”—a tent was brought over while they played. After the song Robert invited everyone to try and get under the tent with them, and then Peter sang “Cool Water.”

After they packed up and left—and after hitting the hotel to get some writing done—Mark and I met up with Denise and Jeff for dinner, which was great. Denise decided to come to the BRMC show at The Dame that evening with us, but it turned out to be sold out. That was a bummer because they’re so great live; I just want everyone to get a chance to see them. Plus we ended up right at the stage, right in the middle, for the whole show—it would have been great for her to get that experience. We’ll see her again in August when we go up to Lexington for Nine Inch Nails.

The show at The Dame was fantastic. The Duke Spirit has really won Mark over (he bought their latest album off Amazon MP3 almost as soon as we got home), and BRMC never disappoints. During their over-two-hours set BRMC played 23 songs, including two new ones: Peter’s “Fine Way to Lose” and Robert’s “River Styx.”

2+ hours is neverneverever enough.

Tuesday evening, when they play at The Visulite in Charlotte, can’t come fast enough.

Some pics from the record store gig under the “Read the rest of this entry” link. (I didn’t bring the camera to the evening show—it’s always a trade off between having something you can look back at when the show’s over and not getting to have the full benefit of the show in the first place because you’re looking at an LCD screen on the back of your camera.)

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Saw Saul Williams at The Loft in Atlanta Friday night. Had to drive four hours through pouring rain for it, but it was worth every soaking wet mile. I actually can’t imagine Saul putting on a bad show; I felt that way before I ever saw him, and I feel that way now. He’s got something special, and I consider myself lucky to have experienced it live. Also! When’s the last time you went to a concert and heard every song you hoped to hear (and the band had more than one album out)?  I think Friday was the first time ever. Oh god it was so good.

I liked the opening band, too—Dragons of Zynth. I bought their album off iTunes Plus after we got home, but it’s not the same as the live show. (The sound sucked at The Loft, by the way, but I was still really into DOZ’s performance, and Saul could kick ass with no P.A. system at all.) Both DOZ and Saul are firmly on my “I’d see them again” list.

Meanwhile: things are moving steadily forward with TOO DEAD. Still having lots of fun writing that. The Script Frenzy project is going well, too. Wish it had a title. Wish the band in it had a name. I hate coming up with titles and names. But otherwise, it’s good.

Trent announced the final two band members for the upcoming Nine Inch Nails tour. Robin Finck rejoining the band was a surprise. And Rich Fownes—that was way out of nowhere. But now that the line-up is complete, I’m excited for the shows to start. How much longer till August?!?

But first: it’s time to finally get around to watching last Thursday’s Survivor!

Nine Inch Nails just released a new album: Ghosts I-IV. You can download the first 9 songs for free, or you can pay $5 and download all 36 tracks in a variety of high-quality formats plus a 40-page PDF. $10 gets you the free complete download and PDF plus two CDs and a 16-page booklet. The deluxe edition package, for $75, includes a hardcover fabric slipcase with two audio CDs, one data DVD with all 36 tracks in multi-track format, and a Blu-ray disc in high-definition 96/24 stereo with accompanying slideshow. Finally, for those hardcore collectors, there’s the ultra-deluxe, numbered, limited edition package for $300, signed by Trent. This includes, in addition to everything in the Deluxe package, an exclusive four-LP 180 gram vinyl set in a fabric slipcase, and two exclusive limited edition Giclee prints in a luxurious package. Learn more an order from ghosts.nin.com. Warning: heavy server load at the moment; the site may be slow for you.

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Public service announcement for the ladies: When you’re heading out to a concert, leave the purse at home. Srsly—it’s a concert. Why do you want to be carrying that thing around and knocking people in the kidneys with it? All you need is your ID, a credit card, some cash, a cell phone, car keys and Chap Stick. Wear pockets. Use them. It works; I do it all the time, show after show. Don’t beat me up with your bag all freaking night.

That out of the way: the Les Claypool concert last night kicked ass. His band is fantastic. The crowd was really good (bag lady excepted). We had a great time. Next up: Saul in April.

Before the show, however, before the totally fucking awesome show, we went to the Moroccan restaurant here in Asheville. Ever since reading Nekropolis I have been craving Moroccan food. Mmm bstilla. Mmm tagine. I love Moroccan food.

I am never going to the Moroccan restaurant in Asheville again.

Hummus. It’s a pretty fucking difficult thing to fuck up, right? It’s, like, chickpeas, tahini, lemon juice, garlic, salt and olive oil. Give twenty monkeys those ingredients and they’ll make hummus by accident. Hummus is pretty. fucking. basic.

So tell me: why did the hummus look like Elmer’s glue had gotten into a sandbox, and why did it taste like mayonnaise?

Went to the Marilyn Manson concert last night. The religious people were out front, in the cold and rain, picketing with their signs and life-sized crosses and promises of eternal damnation. I’ve decided that next time I go to a Manson show I’m bringing my own sign to hold up while I stand in line. You’ll have to wait till that day happens to find out what it says, but I already have it figured out.

One guy (not affiliated with the zealots) was walking around outside in nothing but ripped nylons. Brrrrrrr! I love the people who go to shows. They make me laugh happy.

The opening band—OURS—were as meh as their name. They looked pretty, but they lacked something. Can’t put my finger on what, but it’s an important something, whatever it is. I had a hard time remembering to pay attention to them.

After they left the stage, we all stood around for an hour, waiting for Manson. I wasn’t feeling too cranky about the wait, though—I had hot gay guys hanging all over each other right next to me. Sometimes squished up against me. It was not a bad way to pass an hour. Once the show started, I don’t know what happened to them, or to anyone else I’d been standing around with—Mark included. One minute he was there, then two short, wide girls pushed through on their way out of the pit, and he was gone!

I was so glad I packed The Boots. I need those extra 4 1/2 inches of height; otherwise all I see are shoulder blades. (I’m contemplating 5 3/4″ platforms for my birthday this year, since I have so far managed to not break an ankle in the 4 1/2s.) I ended up just a few people back from center stage. Got to see Manson and Twiggy right up close. It was a fantastic show, and a fantastic crowd. I’ve always worried that if I ended up in the middle of a pit I’d panic and freak out, but I was totally the opposite of freaking out. It was very zen. Another worry I’d had was what if halfway through the show I need to go pee? HAHAHAHAHAHA. I sweated out all the liquid my body had to give—not a drop left over for the bladder, sorry. I do need to tie my hair up next time so I don’t get my head yanked so much. The only other difficulty I had was that I couldn’t get to my pocket to get my Chap Stick (which means I went 90 minutes without, and if you’ve been around me IRL, you know I don’t go ninety minutes without Chap Stick unless I’m asleep).

They played for about 90 minutes, including the silence before the encore (which didn’t go on for too long, really). There were some technical problems—monitors going out and shit, but nothing that took away from the show. Manson’s voice was good, Twiggy was in like he’d never been gone, and I’m a horrible person, but I hardly noticed Ginger, Charlie and Rob. It’s not that they weren’t good—I could hear that they were good—it was a great show—I just didn’t get around to checking them out. I get all caught up with what’s right in front of me. I only saw as much of Twiggy as I did because I reminded myself every now and then that hey, I’ve been hoping to see Jeordie play again since that NIN concert ended in June ‘06, so I should maybe look over that way. (This is why bands need to play like three nights in a row in the same place. I’ll come for every show. I’d come to every show twice if I could. I’d be there eight times in one night if it weren’t a physical impossibility. “So, Heather, what prompted you to clone yourself?” “So that more of me could enjoy live shows—duh!”)

Since I lost Mark after the first two songs, I figured he’d said “fuck it” and fought his way out to the bar to drink beer for the rest of the show. He’s not really into Manson—plus I’m still hearing him complain about how beat up he got at the Queens of the Stone Age show in September. However, it turns out he wound up right in front of Twiggy, with just a young girl between him and the barrier. He had a brief problem with a guy digging fists into his kidneys. After he turned around and solved that problem, all of the sudden the girls around him were like, “Oh! You’re not with him? We thought you were with him. Hey, hit this guy over here!” (Note: he didn’t actually hit anybody.) And one girl spent much of the show smelling and petting his hair. So, I guess he had a pretty good time overall. I found him at the bar once the crowd on the floor finally broke up—he was trying to get a beer, but the bar was closed, so we took our soaking wet selves out into the night to find water and juice. Lots of water. OMG I was so thirsty, between the sweating and the contact-high-cotton-mouth. I’m thirsty now thinking about it. But:

I HAD THE BEST TIME!!!! (Or maybe the second or third best time, but still, it’s a time that’s way up there on the Times I’ve Had list.)

I’m ready to do it all over again. Right now. Why is there no concert to go to Right Now?!?

Right damned fucking now.

Set list:

“Cruci-Fiction in Space”
“Disposable Teens”
“Irresponsible Hate Anthem”
“Great Big White World”
“mOBSCENE”
“If I Was Your Vampire”
“Heart-Shaped Glasses (When the Heart Guides the Hand)”
“Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)”/”Rock ‘n’ Roll Nigger”
“Tourniquet”
“The Love Song” (This might be in the wrong spot.)
“Little Horn”
“The Dope Show”
“Rock Is Dead”
“Coma White”/”Coma Black”
“The Reflecting God”
“The Beautiful People”
“Antichrist Superstar”

Video (not mine) of the religious protesters: