It’s December and Judakris has decided to put together our own survey of the live shows we’ve enjoyed, hated, and obsessed about in 2006. Most of the shows and acts were seen here in St. Louis where occasionally the local time is 1840. Every act and show we mention in this survey has been reviewed somewhere on this blog.
Individual Acts:
Best Opening Song
J: Wolfmother - Dimension
K: Muse - Knights of Cydonia
Most Anticipated
J: Foo Fighters – Since this was a completely new setting, and the tickets were purchased so far in advance, I would definitely say this was the most anticipated for me.
K: HIM. It was my first time.
Best Storyteller
J: Dave Grohl easily! Who doesn’t want to hear a story about the first time he met Kurt Cobain?
K: I could only wish to be as engaging as Pete Yorn the morning after an all-night bender. The most I can usually pull off is to somehow find a way to say “shut the fuck up” politely.
Best Showman
J: Richie Kirkpatrick of Ghostfinger – I was very impressed at the energy and liveliness of the show when there were about 20 people in the whole bar. It was awesome.
K: Yeah, Richie. Gotta love that guy.
Show That Gave Us Best Story to Tell
J: This one is kind of tough but I’m going with Wolfmother. When is the last time I’ve been invited to a private performance? Never. Also the guys were so great that it made it extra special. I also loved being there with K and D.
K: J and I get a lot of mileage out of the Wolfmother night, but to me it’s the Taylor Hawkins and the Coattail Riders show in Chicago. My head was practically in Taylor’s bass drum all night, the slutty white jeans girl was pretty engaging and the fact that Taylor used my skin as a canvas after the show gave me some pretty bloggerific material this year.
Most Disappointing Act
J: Hands down – Living Things
K: Living Things
Best Production
J: Muse
K: AFI
Best Sound
J: Muse – Their album sounds like it’s got a lot of studio wizardry so I didn’t expect them to sound so good live but they were amazing.
Foo Fighters – The acoustics at the Auditorium Theater were impressive and really enhanced the experience.
K: Nightmare of You.
Funniest Act
J: Under the Influence of Giants – They were so over the top with the clothing and the onstage antics, it was worth the price of admission. By the way, this is a compliment!
K: I don't know if this is a legit answer, but the Bonnie Prince Billy in-store at Vintage Vinyl had me rolling internally for most of it.
Best Connection with the Audience
J: Foo Fighters – The banter with the crowd makes even the largest venue feel intimate.
K: AFI. The fans loved Davey and he loved them for lovin' him.
Most Creative Production
J: As overwhelming as it was, Panic! at the Disco
K: Ditto
Most Impressive Production
J: For a band with only one album, Panic! at the Disco
K: I’m not trying to be a copycat; I have to agree with J once again.
Biggest Ass-Hole Lead Singer
J: Lillian Berlin of Living Things – You won’t be playing bigger venues than the Creepy Crawl if that’s how you treat people who pay to see you perform. It’s all about karma fellas!
K: I agree with J. Never have I been so disappointed after a performance.
Sexiest Lead Singer
J: I’m gonna go with Pete Yorn here. If you can be sexy at 2:00 in the afternoon under fluorescent lights in a record store when you’ve just rolled out of bed, you’ve got something there.
K: I’m sure it’s obvious what my answer will be. Sick, chain-smoking, and hiding every inch of his flesh, by mid-concert Ville Valo’s 6’1 lanky frame and smoky baritone made me want to jump off the balcony and die for him this year at The Pageant. Luckily, I had J there to keep me in check.
Best Scream
J: Dave Grohl always wins this category for me. I wish I could make his scream the alert sound in my Outlook email at work. I might smile at work every once in awhile if that was the case.
K: Veruca Salt’s Louise. I’m sure she was tutored by Dave. Actually, I remember J and I commenting that she sounded JUST like Dave. We might all know why that is.
Worst Opening Act
J: Dead Meadow – I just wanted them to go away!
K: Oh god, yes, Dead Meadow. I wanted to kill someone by the time they were done.
Honorable Mention
J: Veruca Salt – I have to give Louise props for holding her own in a 2006 concert lineup of men. She was super cool.
K: Alkaline Trio’s opening act, Against Me! For making Judakris stand up and take notice during their set.
Shows:Best People Watching
J: HIM – Since I was just there for the ride, I focused more on the crowd than usual. Also, it was completely diverse from frat boys to goth kids.
K: Muse- Geeks, freaks, gays, fratboys, and a handful of disgruntled library automation coworkers all having a grand time together.
Best Post-Show Feeling
J: Kings of Leon – I wanted to jump in my car and follow them forever.
K: HIM, The Pageant. Again, it was my first time. I found out recently that the reason the band stood us up after the show was for legitimate reasons so I'm over it. Let's face it, I was over all that an hour after the show and practically emigrated to Finland over the following months. Not since seeing U2 for the first time years ago did I feel a post-show love (metal) hangover quite like that one.
Most Disappointing Night
J: I am going to go with HIM because I was hoping to be won over by the music and wasn’t and then to be stood up for the meet and greet was pretty shitty. I hated that for K.
K: Alkaline Trio because I realized I wasn’t as much of a fan as I thought I was that night.
Most Anticipated Song Not Performed
J: Time to Waste at the Alkaline Trio show and also Ain’t it the Life at the Foo Fighters show, especially since that was on the setlist for other venues.
K: In Joy and Sorrow- HIM
Thanks to all the bands in 2006 that made us feel alive. Judakris has already begun planning dates for the 2007 concert schedule. Don't hold back, bands. You know we won’t. XOXO J and K
Showing posts with label AFI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AFI. Show all posts
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Saturday, August 5, 2006
A.F.I. at the Pageant
On July 30, 2006 I headed down to the Pageant, sans J, to watch A.F.I.
I did not expect to love Nightmare of You as much as I did. One of my coworkers, R, considered tagging along that night only because of them.
Next was Dillinger Escape Plan. Very raucous and the crowd ate them up.
A.F.I. sound like every other band in that genre, really, but they put on a great show for their fans who returned their love and admiration with their screams and pumping fists.
In a recent article in the Dispatch, lead singer Davey Havok was described as being “rail thin”. Eh? I have seen rail thin and rail thin he ain’t! But I’m getting ahead of myself.
While Nightmare of You, who sounded very nicely like a punk version of Morrissey, played their set, I stood on the top floor and found a wall to lean against as I drank my gin. I had a great vantage point from where I was because I could see the stage, the audience, and people around me. I hadn’t smoked in a week and wanted to smoke one a mile long. Well, that’s what I did. I went up to the bar and purchased a pack. Not having a lighter (which is unheard of for me) I asked the guy next to me who looked a little drunk to hand me a book of matches, located to his left. As soon as I lit up and took the first drag I felt alive again. I’m not religious at all, but that moment makes me want to drop to my knees and thank someone, anyone. Earlier that day I had purchased a pair of sexy black open-toed platform wedges and that night was their inaugural outing. So, I was feeling fine.
Anyway, once J and I observed that it seemed perfectly acceptable nowadays to wear the band’s t-shirt at the concert. Among the black t-shirt brigade were a lot of A.F.I. shirts. I also saw a lot of parents hanging out in their jean shorts.
As the crew started to fix up the very white A.F.I. stage, I ordered another drink and fumbled to try and light my cig. I had been noticing a group of non-goth kids standing to my left that kept looking over at me. I recognized one of them as being the one that handed me the book of matches. I was uncomfortable. Without wanting to show my insecurity by looking down to see if I had made some incredibly bad fashion decision, I just acted like I didn’t notice and tried to light my cig. The group walked away, but out of the blue comes this hand with a lit match. He was tall, cute, and very much out of place. I looked at him and said “thanks” and he said, “You know you’ve made it when even your crew is color coordinated with the band and the stage”. I looked down at the stage and sure enough, the crew was all in white. He said that with great sarcasm and I appreciated that.
While there was no music and the atmosphere was conducive to talking we got to know each other a little bit. The perfunctory, “so are you from here?” type questions we got out of the way early. I was surprised that the small talk didn’t seem boring at all. He seemed young, but was an old soul. At some point I unintentionally impressed him with my knowledge of history. I told him I grew up in Germany and he said “Ah, my ancestors came from there about 200 years ago. Valerius”. I looked at him and said “Romans”. At hearing this one word, he jumped up and yelled “OH MY GOD-YOU KNOW ABOUT THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE!!! HOW THEY MADE EVERYONE LATINIZE THEIR NAMES!” I was taken aback by the reaction and then said “bridges”. What I meant to say was “yes, the long arm of the Holy Roman Empire stretched out and influenced many aspects of life in Europe- look at the architecture, for example.” When I’ve been drinking I can’t always articulate, but this guy knew exactly what I meant to say. In fact, he said “Yes, the architecture, absolutely! MAN! I can’t believe I can talk to you about this. Can I buy you another drink?”
You know, for once I’d like to really impress a guy with looks rather than my knowledge of history, comics, or argue that Queen may possibly be the greatest band that ever was.
When we started discussing what we do for a living, we both realized that we were perpetual fixers. He was a Democrat who maintained a database for a local Republican politician. He would be in charge of sending messages or activating a dozen Blackberries at once, for example. He told me that the Republicans were thanking god when the storm hit. He said “they’re all about distraction right now”. When I asked him how he could take it, he said “this is why I’m a drunk at 23”.
So, then A.F.I comes on. The crowd screamed so loudly we looked at each other and grinned. He said “Wow. They’re here for A.F.I., it seems”. Finally, I turned to him and said, “What the hell are you doing here?” He said he was a friend of a friend of one of A.F.I.’s roadies and tagged along for the night. Oh good- another non-fan!
Back to A.F.I. The cd is called DecemberUnderground and how appropriate that the stage and the band were all in white. As I watched Davey run around in his white suspenders, asymmetrical haircut and glittery eye make-up, I looked at my new friend and asked “do you think he’s gay?” He said, “Maybe. Or, maybe he gets so much poon that he doesn’t have to pretend to be straight.”
When the crowd’s singing overwhelmed the band’s voices and Davey simply turned it over to them, my friend looked at me and said “ you know, if I were the artist I’d be like ‘People your job is to buy the album. My job is to sing’”.
In regards to the show, I wasn’t won over, but I also didn’t walk away hating them. I can respect them now, just because they knew their job is to put on a show for their audience and by god they did.
At the end of the night, I said goodbye to my new friend. I didn’t get digits- too young and a drunk at that age! No thanks. I’ve had an alcoholic boyfriend before, and although he was a wonderful man, I will never knowingly walk into that again.
As I drove home, I reflected on what a fun evening it was. When I looked at the time, I realized I would be home in time to tape a FUSE F*** Ups episode that was going to have Ville Valo getting slightly shitty with a tv producer who kept interrupting him. Say it with a flower pot, baby! I opened a cold beer, taped/watched the show, went to bed happy, and woke up the next day feeling like ass. Life is good. -K
I did not expect to love Nightmare of You as much as I did. One of my coworkers, R, considered tagging along that night only because of them.
Next was Dillinger Escape Plan. Very raucous and the crowd ate them up.
A.F.I. sound like every other band in that genre, really, but they put on a great show for their fans who returned their love and admiration with their screams and pumping fists.
In a recent article in the Dispatch, lead singer Davey Havok was described as being “rail thin”. Eh? I have seen rail thin and rail thin he ain’t! But I’m getting ahead of myself.
While Nightmare of You, who sounded very nicely like a punk version of Morrissey, played their set, I stood on the top floor and found a wall to lean against as I drank my gin. I had a great vantage point from where I was because I could see the stage, the audience, and people around me. I hadn’t smoked in a week and wanted to smoke one a mile long. Well, that’s what I did. I went up to the bar and purchased a pack. Not having a lighter (which is unheard of for me) I asked the guy next to me who looked a little drunk to hand me a book of matches, located to his left. As soon as I lit up and took the first drag I felt alive again. I’m not religious at all, but that moment makes me want to drop to my knees and thank someone, anyone. Earlier that day I had purchased a pair of sexy black open-toed platform wedges and that night was their inaugural outing. So, I was feeling fine.
Anyway, once J and I observed that it seemed perfectly acceptable nowadays to wear the band’s t-shirt at the concert. Among the black t-shirt brigade were a lot of A.F.I. shirts. I also saw a lot of parents hanging out in their jean shorts.
As the crew started to fix up the very white A.F.I. stage, I ordered another drink and fumbled to try and light my cig. I had been noticing a group of non-goth kids standing to my left that kept looking over at me. I recognized one of them as being the one that handed me the book of matches. I was uncomfortable. Without wanting to show my insecurity by looking down to see if I had made some incredibly bad fashion decision, I just acted like I didn’t notice and tried to light my cig. The group walked away, but out of the blue comes this hand with a lit match. He was tall, cute, and very much out of place. I looked at him and said “thanks” and he said, “You know you’ve made it when even your crew is color coordinated with the band and the stage”. I looked down at the stage and sure enough, the crew was all in white. He said that with great sarcasm and I appreciated that.
While there was no music and the atmosphere was conducive to talking we got to know each other a little bit. The perfunctory, “so are you from here?” type questions we got out of the way early. I was surprised that the small talk didn’t seem boring at all. He seemed young, but was an old soul. At some point I unintentionally impressed him with my knowledge of history. I told him I grew up in Germany and he said “Ah, my ancestors came from there about 200 years ago. Valerius”. I looked at him and said “Romans”. At hearing this one word, he jumped up and yelled “OH MY GOD-YOU KNOW ABOUT THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE!!! HOW THEY MADE EVERYONE LATINIZE THEIR NAMES!” I was taken aback by the reaction and then said “bridges”. What I meant to say was “yes, the long arm of the Holy Roman Empire stretched out and influenced many aspects of life in Europe- look at the architecture, for example.” When I’ve been drinking I can’t always articulate, but this guy knew exactly what I meant to say. In fact, he said “Yes, the architecture, absolutely! MAN! I can’t believe I can talk to you about this. Can I buy you another drink?”
You know, for once I’d like to really impress a guy with looks rather than my knowledge of history, comics, or argue that Queen may possibly be the greatest band that ever was.
When we started discussing what we do for a living, we both realized that we were perpetual fixers. He was a Democrat who maintained a database for a local Republican politician. He would be in charge of sending messages or activating a dozen Blackberries at once, for example. He told me that the Republicans were thanking god when the storm hit. He said “they’re all about distraction right now”. When I asked him how he could take it, he said “this is why I’m a drunk at 23”.
So, then A.F.I comes on. The crowd screamed so loudly we looked at each other and grinned. He said “Wow. They’re here for A.F.I., it seems”. Finally, I turned to him and said, “What the hell are you doing here?” He said he was a friend of a friend of one of A.F.I.’s roadies and tagged along for the night. Oh good- another non-fan!
Back to A.F.I. The cd is called DecemberUnderground and how appropriate that the stage and the band were all in white. As I watched Davey run around in his white suspenders, asymmetrical haircut and glittery eye make-up, I looked at my new friend and asked “do you think he’s gay?” He said, “Maybe. Or, maybe he gets so much poon that he doesn’t have to pretend to be straight.”
When the crowd’s singing overwhelmed the band’s voices and Davey simply turned it over to them, my friend looked at me and said “ you know, if I were the artist I’d be like ‘People your job is to buy the album. My job is to sing’”.
In regards to the show, I wasn’t won over, but I also didn’t walk away hating them. I can respect them now, just because they knew their job is to put on a show for their audience and by god they did.
At the end of the night, I said goodbye to my new friend. I didn’t get digits- too young and a drunk at that age! No thanks. I’ve had an alcoholic boyfriend before, and although he was a wonderful man, I will never knowingly walk into that again.
As I drove home, I reflected on what a fun evening it was. When I looked at the time, I realized I would be home in time to tape a FUSE F*** Ups episode that was going to have Ville Valo getting slightly shitty with a tv producer who kept interrupting him. Say it with a flower pot, baby! I opened a cold beer, taped/watched the show, went to bed happy, and woke up the next day feeling like ass. Life is good. -K
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