Tool (8-2-09)

Be Patient.  There’s some mention of this band Tool towards the end of this lengthy post.

So, my third Tool concert.  The first was in 2006, and the second was 2007, the as yet unposted third installment of the Tool Trilogy of posts.  I suck.  That post was almost entirely written the night of the concert.  Just needs some tweaking.  Blame school.  And the fact that I suck.

This time, instead of the somewhat nearby Mansfield, Massachusetts, we had to go to Manchester, Cow Hampshire, to an ENCLOSED venue.  I so prefer open air concerts — the sound quality, the ambiance, the less claustrophobic, industrialized, processed feeling.  Exception:  clubs.  Can’t beat that kind of intimacy.

Anyway, I left shortly after 2:00, tanked up, picked up Neil, crossed a couple of state borders, and made it to downtown Manchester in just under two hours.  Yes, we made generous allowances for getting lost and finding parking, neither of which was an issue, fortunately.

Neil, by the way, has been friends with my brother since high school, so that’s how long I’ve known him.  Not my boyfriend.  Tim backed out of this concert, understandably, because of his tinnitus.

I drove because Neil has a tendency to overindulge with the alcohol.  To his benefit, I forgot to bring a bottle opener, and he of course had one.

We found a parking lot just across from the arena for $10, a real bargain compared with Providence’s “event parking” rates.  We later learned that there was street parking to be had for a dollar, but decided we were just as well off in the lot instead of having to navigate unfamiliar streets, while watching for jaywalking pedestrians, in search of an available $1 spot.  And Neil paid for the parking.

Suzanne had tipped me off that there were several restaurants in the immediate vicinity, but we figured they’d be packed with concertgoers, so we picnicked in the punchbuggy.  I made a Caesar salad and chicken quesadillas on corn tortillas.  (After making them with corn tortillas for gluten-free Jenny for our 3^rd of July pre-fireworks picnic, I can honestly say I’ll never go back to using flour tortillas.  Corn is tastier.)  Neil, who sometimes works at his family’s diner, usually in the role of baker, was good (or evil?) enough to bring the pumpkin roll with cream cheese filling that I love.  Mmmm.

I drank a beer and a tall Jim Beam and Diet Coke.  I didn’t count Neil’s beers.  Still early, we decided to stroll over to the arena, where many were already congregated.  The many, I correctly assumed, were the General Admission floor ticketholders.  I don’t do GA Floor.  That be scary.  I thought that, given the GA arrangement, the doors might open earlier rather than later, and my bladder did not have room for another drink.

I was wrong.  Clearly, the arena managers do not remember the 1979 Who concert in Cincinnati.  The whole, entire mother was GA, and that poorly managed fiasco resulted in 11 dead from stampedes.  Fortunately, there would be no stampedes here in Manchester.

Not needing to get in line, we sat on the grassy curb.  Some people-watching notes:  What’s up with everyone wearing their Tool t-shirts to the concert?  Like, EVERYONE.  It was crazy.  I would never do that.  You’re AT the concert.  You like the band.  We get it.  Geez, so cult-like.

The first time I saw Tool (in Massachusetts), I wore all black and felt like somewhat of a Nine Inch Nails outcast.  That crowd was more jeans and whatever shirt was on top in the hamper.  Ditto for the second time, where I went jeans and black jersey.  Manchester, however, was more of a slightly outdated, goth-ish grunge look.  Lots of black.  Me?  I wore cropped jeans and a pink peasant top.  And the flowered skimmers mentioned in the Tool Trilogy, Part I.  I didn’t totally blend in with the passé redneck youth, but I don’t think I stood out either, so good.

In style yet age-appropriate, not a soccer mom, comfortable in her own skin and attire.  And it showed cleavage.  Hip, mature lady-rocker who isn’t ridiculously trying to look 20?  Maybe?  Whatever.  I felt fine with what I was wearing, even if it was too pretty for Tool.  I just can’t help the pretty.

Anyhow, while sitting on the grass, I struck up a conversation with a couple of guys who sat adjacent to us.  Ah, so much more confident I am with the young dudes now that I’m older.  Pity.

Unfortunately, Tyler and Josh had no idea when the doors would be opened either.

And I had to pee in the worst way.

I started looking around for trees and such.  No luck.  On the walk from the lot, I noticed that all the restaurants had signs posted that restrooms were for patrons only.  Makes sense, I know, but I had to pee, man!  Damn that beer.

So, Tyler was a cutie and a sweetie and more talkative than his friend.  (Eventually, Josh and Neil got into some band talk or something.)  Tyler had really long, thick, gorgeous brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.  Beautiful hair.  I wish I had that hair.  Coupled with his sweet face and gentle manner, oh my.  And he probably wasn’t even 30.  Sigh.  So lovely.

The four of us eventually got into one of the non-GA lines.  My bladder, my bladder.  Open the doors, dammit!

The show was supposed to start at 7:30 (which it didn’t, of course), and those jackasses didn’t open the doors until sometime around 6:45.  Typical for Tool, the female frisk lines were MUCH shorter than the guys’ lines, so I told Neil I would meet him at our seats.  I couldn’t stand inside the entrance waiting around for him.  I had to get to the nearest ladies’ room tout de suite.  Did I mention I HAD TO PEE?  So I had to say farewell to my sweet Tyler, too.

(In fact, as I was being frisked, I asked the security woman where the nearest restrooms were.  Classy.)

Our seats were awesome.  Section 119, damn close to the stage and with a great view!  I had a clear view of the entire stage for the duration of the concert.  Unfreakinbelievable!  No NBA types in front of me obstructing my view — a possible first!  We watched that growing throng on the floor, all packed in tight at the front barricade.  No, thank you.  I was much happier from a good, safe distance.

The Funniest Thing that Happened:
The opening act was Tweak Bird.  I’ve never heard of them.  Their gear was set up at the front of the stage, with Tool’s gear in back, covered up.  The lights dimmed, and one guy got on stage.  He made a couple of bird noises and did some weird bird poses.  Then, he squatted down and appeared to be inspecting the wires or connections or something.  I couldn’t tell, exactly.  Nesting?  Then he stood for a minute before sitting at the drums.  Taking his time.  He started to mumble something in a pathetic, whiny voice.  Think Gordon Gano of the Violent Femmes.

“So, um, the other day, I was like, um…”

And then a voice bellowed from the floor.

“PLAY SOME FUCKING MUSIC!!!”

Hahaha.  There was a round of laughter, but I think I was the only one in the arena still laughing five minutes later.  That just got me.

The bellower barely had the last word out when Tweak Bird started.  Clearly, they were chosen for the gig based on their focus on drumming.  The guitarist occasionally made interesting use of feedback as an additional instrument.  The third guy played flute and alto sax (meh) and saxophone (godawful).  The lyrics were minimal, which was a good thing, as there was no vocal talent.

Between bands, I had a lapse in judgment and waited in a very long, slow-moving line to purchase a $6 beer.  The line was close to our section, though, so if I saw the lights dim, I was prepared to skip the beer and dart to my seat.

Finally, beer in hand, I took just a couple of steps, and guess who I ran into?

Tyler.  Sweet Tyler with the gorgeous, now un-ponytailed hair.  Yumm-ay.  We chatted for a while before heading back to our respective seats.  Actually, he did much of the talking.  I did much gazing.  Ah, too bad we weren’t seated in the same section.

I do admit that Tyler and I likely were so at ease with each other because of the mutually non-threatening circumstances.  Zero intimidation.  I suspect a kind, gentle guy like that, at that young age, would be more ill at ease with a female closer to his own age.

The wait for Tool was long.  About an hour.  WTF?

During this time (and feeling a slight beer buzz, perhaps), I mentioned to Neil about seeing Tyler on the concourse and my regret that we weren’t sitting near each other.

K:  If we were in the same section, I would totally get drunk and be making out with him by the end of the show.

N:  You wouldn’t do that.

K:  I’d like to.

N:  (shakes head) What about that nose piercing?  Wouldn’t that get in the way?

K:  Yeah, I was wondering about that.  Hopefully, it’s short enough that I wouldn’t get shredded or anything.

Tyler had some sort of weird nose piercing, like a bullring, but instead of being an open circle, there was a straight spike protruding down from each nostril.  I suspect it was a vain attempt to make that sweet face look more badass.  Fail.

At last, at 9:45 or so, about an hour after Tweak Bird finished, Tool took the stage.

Not my photos and not from the Manchester show.  Contrary to Nine Inch Nails and their “relaxed camera policy,” Tool is very strict about No Cameras.  I’m just tossing up some online photos to illustrate the light show that accompanied a couple of songs.

Setlist:
Jambi
Stinkfist
Forty-Six and 2
Schism
Lost Keys
Rosetta Stoned
Flood
Aenema
Lateralus
Vicarious

Basically the same setlist as the last two times, but without “Wings for Marie” (Part 1) and “10,000 Days” (Wings Part 2).  I missed hearing “Pushit” this time, but it was good to have “Aenema” back.  Can’t have everything, right?

After “Jambi,” Maynard informed us that he had just arrived by car from New Jersey and that his back hurt.  (Apparently, his flight had been cancelled.)  Also, after “Jambi,” Moody Maynard didn’t seem as into it as I have previously seen.  He was there, he did his job, and that’s it, nothing more.  Whatever.  It would be far too hypocritical of me to criticize someone for just going through the motions of one’s job.  Also, coming off some recent back pain myself, I can understand his reluctance to move around much.

For the most part, the music was awesome.  Of course, I knew that really loud guitars in enclosed spaces would not be to die for.  That kind of sound needs some open space.  There were a few brief muddy parts, and Maynard’s vocals were drowned out a couple of times (by Maynard’s own choosing, possibly).  Overall, though, it was aural ecstasy.  I got my trippy groove on and let the music permeate my pores.  Or something like that.

Um, yeah, that was pretty much what happened.

Lasers, baby.  Usually not my thing, but pretty cool when accompanied by live Tool.

As last time, “Schism” had the speeded up bridge, “Rosetta Stoned” featured the laser show, there was the Third Eye lighting (I don’t think it’s supposed to be the Third Eye, but that’s how I regard it), and “Lateralus” included the drum-off with Danny Carey and Tweak Bird’s drummer.  The drum-off was merely okay, not at all jaw-dropping like the drum-off with Big Business’ drummer back in 2007.  Maynard definitely altered the lyrics at the beginning of “Rosetta Stoned.”  Absolutely his right to do so.  I just wish I knew what those altered lyrics were.

The Lateralus drum-off.  You have to laugh at Tweak Bird’s little Fisher Price drum kit dwarfed by Danny Carey’s impressive array.  And in case you didn’t know, Danny is seriously working those drums at age 48.  That is some extra impressive shit.

As mentioned, Maynard was less than energetic, but the rest of the band did not disappoint.  Adam Jones has never been very animated on stage (ironic, huh?), so it would be foolish to expect otherwise.  He played well, and really, isn’t that what’s important?  Justin Chancellor was having a good ol’ time and rocking out, as usual.  (Of course, at 37, he’s the young buck of the group.)  And Danny simply amazed, as always.

My favorites of the night were “Jambi,” “Stinkfist,” “Flood,” and “Aenema.”  An hour and 45 minutes later, it was over.  The ride home took just over two hours, due to the initial jam leaving Manchester, which really wasn’t all that bad.

So, out of three Tool concerts, I’d have to put this one in third place.  Any remorse?  Despite the drive, the venue, the hour wait between sets, and Maynard’s seeming lack of enthusiasm, NO.  I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

After all, it’s Tool, for fucking out loud.

=^..^=

Without Andrew

Thinking of the upcoming B-52’s concert this Friday has been making me sad.  So many thoughts of the late, great Andrew.  It was with Andrew and Christy that I went to two B-52’s concerts waaaaay back in the early ‘80s.  How we loved those first two albums (The B-52’s and Wild Planet)!

It still bothers me to this day that people assumed Andrew died from AIDS.  Because he was a young, homosexual male.  Not that a brain tumor is any better.  Or dying on the operating table.  Either way, he’s gone, and I’ll never get to see him again.

I guess it bothers me because Andrew was an LPN, working at a hospital and in school to become an RN, and he was very careful and tested frequently.  Assuming he died from AIDS implies that he might have been careless, and he was not.

So many good memories of and great stories about Andrew, though.  I really need to get them all written down.  Someday.

Why does it seem that the people who live their lives with the most joy are the ones taken too soon?

I have to stop now, because I’m tearing up.

Love you, Andrew.  I think of you often, holding court at your big dance party in the sky.

=^..^=

P.S. I’m tucking a photo of Andrew in my bag for the concert.  I need him there with me.