AAYL Geek show 2003/2011

Speaking of hecklers; I was reminded of the time of when I went to some live music and the band ended up heckling the audience. 

It was during the Geek Show tour (Fantomas, Melvins, Tomahawk) over at Metropolis in Fremantle, back in 2003. 

A little context to the night. 

At the end of the Fantomas set, the rest of the Melvins came on stage, Lombardo left, and the remaining amalgam of Melvins/Fantomas supergroup played an impromptu noise collage before Patton, Dunn exited and the Melvins kicked immediately into their set without thought for pause. Unfortunately, Buzz was sweating like a hairy beast and obviously tired and unfit, so they weren't as good as when they opened, in their love-heart adorned, black silk nighties, for Tool at the Perth Entertainment Centre in 2002. 

However, Fantomas were excellent. Not as, dare I say, rehearsed as they would become, so there was a sense of immediacy in what they did. The band was taking cues off Patton for the different parts they had to play and it was great to see them pull off the Amenaza al Mundo album. One was almost wondering if they could do it. 

(Which was not like the 2005 tour, when they barely looked at each other and the crowd was going bat-shit bonkers for it like the music was the craziest, most extreme garbage ever. I left early, because I'm an outsider damn it, and I don't like being around people who like what I care for. Also, someone stuck chewing gum inside my belt buckle when I wasn't paying attention, so it almost goes without saying that I had to piss off.) 

And then, during the Tomahawk set, Mike Patton dedicated a song to Chris Cornell of Soundgarden fame, paused, the audience all cheered, perhaps drunkenly and dumbly, and then Mike continued with "THAT FAGGOT!"

Anyway, the point to this snap (snap!) post: I used to write a blog - Angry Angry Young Lady -  (try to Google search for it! Good luck!) and I dipped into my personal archives, priceless material that it is, and found out what I wrote about the event. 

By my careful calculations, it appears the Geek Show was on a tuesday night. A TUESDAY night! Damn it bands, get your scheduling right, no wonder nobody and no-one turns up to your gigs. 

Also according to the post, it appears I was playing in a pool team. I reckon that was the first night I played competitively in a team, ever since I had a season in the first division when I was 17/18 (back in the year 1, 9, 0, oh, Oh.) But this team was in second division, which probably explains how I won the Gold Medal. I'm sure that medal is around somewhere.

Please note: This entry originally appeared in yellow, on a black background, formatted as is. Because, that's how I liked to do things in the... sincerity? stupidity?.... of youth. 

Please, please note: Laaaanguage warning. An attempt at being controversial? Say any of those rude words fifty times in a row and they lose all meaning. 

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Wednesday 10th of December

Too little to do in too much time. That's never a good combination for the weak of heart. What is terrible depressing music to me is glorious sound to the other. A few days ago I had the dress rehearsal for the pool team. Tonight was the main event. There's not much to say about how I played, besides from stating that my golden hand was in fine form. After the second round, there's five, one of the regulars was dropped and I was slotted in. The regular reacted badly. He took off the team shirt, replacing it with a more staid gray ensemble. He started to drink. He played pool with one of his friends on a table close to the competition. Songs playing over the pool hall's sound system were sung along with, featuring modified renditions of the lyrics bluntly addressing his being dropped. He hit the beer and the beer hit back. And finally the regular, now red eyed, swaying and slurred, confronted the team captain. It was slowly explained to him that he wasn't excised from the team because of his form, rather because he was overheard bad mouthing the team. The regular's retort was to plead with the captain. "Go on, hit me! Just hit me!!" The captain politely declined and sent him away. All the while my golden hand shined as the opposition were blinded by my brilliance. I don't get it man, they just played the same fast pieces over and over. There was, like, no variation at all. The drummer kept doing the same fill. And he'd just make a weird sound, then a fast blast, then another low sound. They didn't get any good guitar parts going. Like, it, like, didn't last for long. Then those other guys were boring! They tried to rock but it wasn't very interesting. It was just sludgy, and slow, and like, I don't know. Buh-oring. Oh and the last band! They were kind of good. Well to begin with, even if the sound wasn't very good. Like the music kind of bounced along, but kept repeating, so I knew where what was coming when. I didn't even have to pay attention! I could just push people around in the crowd and rub up against the good looking girls. The ugly cunts I just pushed away, pushed them into the ground under like the waves of guys rolling over. But then the singer started doing weird stuff. Like he didn't talk much, but when he would it was shit about where we lived. Something about us being free? I didn't get that. It seemed kind of rude. Over the songs he started screaming, and playing with these weird tools on his desk. And the sounds that came from the tools were screeching blips of noise, which drowned the repeating stuff the band was doing. And then! The singer called Chris Cornell a faggot! Chris Cornell! A faggot! This is when, like, the singer has his shirt open. I couldn't believe it. I had to push my way back to the bar and get a beer. This guy is singing like a love song, in Spanish or some foreign shit? How do I press up against chicks to that? Unbelievable.