By: Unshetek

I guess I should get going on this...I'm awake, the shows are over, and you all are probably just _itching_ to read my take on the Bay Area shows...just let me pull a tall glass of Ovaltine...

Okay, on tuesday I woke up sick. Head pounding, guts churning, sweating like a horse. Turns out I am the victim of heat exhaustion after three days of 90+ degree temps. I growled and cussed at Ap-Uautu and said, "Come on, why'd You make me sick TODAY!!?" But, being a Metal Ox Capricorn of strong constitution, I was bound and determined to go to the show come hell or high water (literally: the toilet flooded over and there was an inch of standing water in the bathroom only hours before the show). I spent the day resting and mellowing out, and by the evening I was at least somewhat in control of my processes.

I dressed comfortably, black velvet pants with thigh cut out to show off my leg ink, a black wolf t-shirt (t-shirt and wolf), black mocassins, and left it at that. Forget the cloak, forget the trenchcoat I laid aside the night before, it's 'way too hot, Jackson (:(90 degrees at ten!). As I passed by the club, orbiting for a parking space, I saw Josh and Johnny talking with some users right out there on the sidewalk. Recognized then instantly, Johnny smiles like a champion and you can see it for blocks. But, unfortunately, there was no close parking spaces and by the time I parked, two blocks away, and walked back, they were gone.

I got inside and was quite happy to see a big tub of apples at the top of the stairs inside the Fillmore! Extremely cool! I grabbed the biggest, reddest one and ripped into it - first solid thing I'd had all day. I wandered in, eating the apple, and Holly came out of the crowd to tap me on the shoulder! Juggling walking staff and apple, we hugged and looking across the ballroom (crystal chandaliers with black lights in them - extremely cool!), saw this super tall guy with long, lank, dark hair. I said, "Is that -?" and we went over to check him out, but he wasn't. Scruffy beard, wrong nose, and a little skinnier than Peter turned out to be! (Yes, MV, I know I should have gotten a picture, he was damn close in a darkened ballroom)

The ambience in the place was too fantastic for words. I already mentioned the black light chandaliers but the huge stage was dressed. I loved the way the old trees backdrop and the autumn trees blended in beautifully, camouflaging everything, and when Type O came out it _looked_ like they were playing in a forest. I expected to see antlers emerge somewhere back there, from behind Josh's keys rack perhaps. Excellent stagecraft! :D (more on this later)

We looked for PKrewin and Holly apologized for being late. I told her I'd just arrived myself and it was no problem; we went out to the bathroom to take care of biology and talked the whole time, chattering, Holly couldn't believe the day was here and they hadn't cancelled, God I hope they come out and I was saying they had to come out and mix. I told her I saw Josh and Johnny as I drove by, then we went out and ran into one of the players from my Vampire game, Kevin, who plays the Brujah Keeper of Elysium. We stood round and talked for awhile; the coat check lady overheard us and when I said that Peter said he takes a shower after the show and does a meet 'n greet, she said, "I doubt they'll come out to meet their public, meet 'n greet is purely a record business term." Holly was disappointed but I didn't let it rattle me: I've gone to shows forever and have heard all manner of business bullshit; I never assume anything until the game's over - read: the bus pulls away.

Manhole came out and played, and we went up front to watch. Kevin, a merry pitmeister (of course - he's a Brujah!), headed straight for the front but there was no pit, unfortunately: but that chick can really belt it out and while the mix wasn't good enough to pick out the lyrics, the crowd responded to them well considering they were first and it was like an oven in there. There were lots of smiles, hoots, cheers and everything else going around after they got off.

During the show I saw my old buddy Lance from Skitzo and we hugged (I got to do a lot of hugging tonight :)), and after the show we went out to the lobby and caught up on each other. I told him I'm killing off the 'zine after the next issue and going to cook school, and he said, "I can totally picture you as a chef. I don't drink but I'd come to your brewpub anyway, just to see you." A couple users next to him saw my tattoos and shang-haied me into a tattoo show 'n tell. The chick was about three sheets to the wind and kept asking me if my Egyptian rising sun and descending moon armbands were for Journey. I told her that they're for the Summer and Winter Solstices and the descending moon one was done by Patty Kelley, whose father used to do Journey album covers.

LOA came out and played, leaving most of the crowd cold (no, Holly wasn't the only one). But I've seen them before at Berkeley Square, a very small, intimate club (knee-high, postage-stamp sized stage), and frankly the Fillmore was a little too big for them - photo pit, huge stage, huge ballroom with cathedral ceilings. LOA is an up-close band, their strength is in crowd rapport and in this barn, they lost something in the translation, however well they played.
Side note: This one old guy who looked slightly inbred (no chin, mouthbreathing) stood next to me staring at the band through these huge binoculars, and we were maybe twelve feet away. (?)

Throughout the stage setup for Type O, the atmosphere was electric but still quiet - no hoots, no roundiness, just users milling and looking anticipatory. A small gaggle of Goth girls stood over by the stage and Johnny and Josh came out to hang out at the side of the stage, talking with their roadies and for the most part, not talking to anyone without a laminate. Holly and I caught up with Rich and we talked briefly and he was nice, smiled and shook our hands. I introduced myself as "Unshetek, I'm the weird, spiritual one on the list." He said he had to go back to work, and took off; Holly turned back to me and said, "He did exactly what the list said he was doing." I shrugged and said, "He's at work. You'd probably do the same thing if he came into your office while you were in the middle of something."
Holly said, "I'm going up front and center. Come up with me!"
I said, "No fuckin' way. I got this -" held up the walking staff " - you can't pit in mocassins, no grip, no protection, and I'm still healing a kneeful of shredded cartilage."
She said, "I'll keep users off you. I'm meaner than I look."
I said, "Absolutely not. You go into the pit to have fun and blow off steam, not kick asses or protect cripples that have no business in there anyway. We used to hate users like that." And that was the end of that. She said she was going up and come on up if I'm feeling brave. Turned out that didn't happen at all.

Type O came out to a thunder of applause and a cavalcade of screams from a thousand chicks in heat. Johnny was the first out, stood up on his kit and even though the lights were _all_ off, users saw him and roared. He got down and hit the bass drums and _boom!_ The vibrations from the PA literally rocked me to the craw. The rest of the band came out and I was probably six feet from Peter. He came out last, this massive, looming shadow in the darkness and users went apeshit, screams everywhere. I rolled my eyes, and he hit his bass. Here's a nice little bit of imagery, there was an open bottle of water next to the pumpkin and bottle of vino on his wine table and when they played, the vibrations were such that they shook the water out of it, so throughout the show there was this constant spray coming out of the Crystal Geyser water bottle (yes, I was _that_ close).
The lights went up, shining on Peter, and they started playing. He looked over towards me and since I was rocking and bobbing my head, he nodded at me and glanced away. From then on, for the first song and a half, I was dumbstruck. I just stood there with my jaw slack - I was so close I could see every vein in his arms, the scars, and since he was wearing a tank top and due to his stance I could see his arms from scapula down - nothing but rippling muscle, pecs swollen, nipples sticking out like funnels - this lad's been not only bulking, but defining! He looked like Schwarzenegger scaled up! There were any number of girls screaming and spooging themselves, sounding like the orgasm scene from "When Harry Met Sally" times several hundred, but I was shellshocked. My _GOD AND GODDESS!_ what a chunk of flesh!!
Not much happened that other members of the list haven't gone into already, you all read it. I'll make commentary instead.
The snowstorm was great. I had a blast with that, playing with the flakes as they came down and trying to catch them, shaking my hair, giggling and generally acting like a cat, even forgetting to sing along. The way it caked everything made it look fantastic: we had fog, trees, snow, green lights - all four seasons here. Which brings me to my next gripe.
THEY ONLY PLAYED TWO FUCKING SONGS FROM _OCTOBER RUST_!! >:(| I was holding out my best reaction for "Wolf Moon" and/or "In Praise of Bacchus." I wanted to howl along. I know it was kind of a long shot, but I wanted my "Green Man" fix for the day - left off playing the CD so I could maybe get it live. "Burnt Flowers (Fallen)" would have been great live, and they didn't so much as touch it.
Instead they played a bunch of covers from stuff I (and Peter) grew up with: "Cinnamon Girl," "Summer Breeze," "Light My Fire," and a quote from "Aqualung" during (wait for it) "Kill All The White users." Now, I love those songs, and have since I first heard them, even in the darkest depths of Thrash back about twelve years ago, but a little constructive criticism here: I didn't pay $15 for an Early Seventies Rock tribute show. Couldn't you just limit it to one cover, and fill out the rest with more stuff from _October Rust_? "Love You To Death" was of course breathtaking and one of my higher points of the show; "MGG" was greeted with lukewarm response, especially when you compare it to "KATWP," "Black No.1" and the "Jesus Christ Looks Like Me" movement of "Christian Woman." Yes, "MGG" is the single and video, but when I looked around during that song I saw a lot of polite smiles - no more, no less. The crowd was only responding because of that status - half of them probably haven't even seen the video (I haven't yet). Maybe they should drop it after the hype dies down and replace it with something else - I suggest "Burnt Flowers (Fallen)."
Speaking of "LYTD" - the guys have a strong suit in jamming and live improv. They did a good deal of it during the show, especially during "Summer Breeze/Set Me On Fire" (another big crowd favourite). They jammed a little on this and I saw, believe it or not, more guys than girls singing along with it and they were getting into it more. It makes you wonder, all this talk of frail male egos; I think next time I go to a Type O show, I'm going to cruise as much for the fellas in the audience as for friends and the band. Peter puts forth the image and character of a classy, romantic, sensitive paramour: naturally the men he attracts in his audience are there because they recognize a kindred spirit, that they see themselves as romantic types. Those guys up front, singing along and getting into it more than Peter did, I think are imagining themselves as saying that to a lady. I for one wouldn't mind a fella ministering to my every need, altruistically, lovingly, slavishly. Maybe worth checking out :)
The crowd was, according to Paul (he came up to Holly and I soon after the show started and stuck around the general vicinity for most of the show), thoroughly amped and the pit was pretty violent. I didn't see any of that but judging from Paul before set (stinkin' drunk, weaving, twelve or thirteen sheets to the wind, cross-eyed) and after (absolutely aware, straight, sober, cranked up and sweat-drenched), I believe it! ;)
There was tons of singalong. Heck, during "Black No.1" the band could have pulled up chairs and watched us and we could've sang it to them. Peter jokingly made an allusion to that, saying before the song, "If we forget the words, you all know it better than we do, just carry it." Cro Maat! We had a lot of fun singing along with everything. Very up, happy, worshipful crowd.
A little too worshipful. When Peter let his hair down before "Xtian Woman," just about every chick in the audience screamed like they were recruited straight off a sleazy white trash TV talk show. I rolled my eyes and sneered, grumbling "Grow the fuck up...!"
Early in the show, Holly came back and joined me sidestage. She said, "I just got us up on the side of the stage during the last song. That blonde roadie doing Peter's bass invited me to come up - just stick with me." I said, "I won't believe it 'til I'm up there." So she didn't pit but we had fun in our group over on the side; and the roadie, just as I predicted, flaked on us. There was a blonde chick already up there and we thought that she was the one who edged us out, but the bassist from Manhole came up and they hugged and kissed enthusiastically, so I guess she was either a friend or a girlfriend - one way or another, she was with them, not Type O. (I got a Downtime meeting in a half hour, better get on with it)

After the show, we grouped and went outside to hang out by the buses. Since they were parked on the street in front of the club, it was easy, it was just a question of convincing Holly to hang about. She wanted to split directly after and I said, "If you stick around, you probably will meet them. If you leave now, you won't and I'll have Peter all to myself." Wicked smile. I guess she remembered the joking suggestion I made earlier for us to gang up on Peter and lovingly overwhelm him with oestrogen, so she stuck around. She kept saying, "How long do we have to wait?"
And I kept saying, "As long as it takes! This is not an exact science." It wasn't too long a wait; I spotted Johnny and we went over and introduced ourselves. He gave me a big smile and introduced himself as "John." So, users, it's not "Johnny," it's John! :) I finally saw the necklace he was wearing and it was a little Gargoyle of Lyons sitting on a ball, in silver. Another girl in the crowd had that and they stood together, comparing them and both smiling. I gotta say, John has to be the best dresser in the band, his hair was perfect and he had on this lovely olive cotton shirt which hung nicely on him. He's kind of tall and overall, he struck a handsome figure; add to that, a great personality, and basically he wowed the ladies.
I saw Mike Amato next and he was super friendly, really cool person. He joked when I told him I saw his picture on Timur's page on the Web, saying, "I didn't do it!" Very hearty handshake, really friendly, everything you've heard about him is true. He said, "Excuse me, folks, I gotta wrangle these guys..." and went up to the bus, yelling, "Raus! Raus! Raus! Everybody raus!" ("raus" is German for "out," for those not in the know). Immediately after there came an orderly line of Type O, Kenny first and avoiding us, then Josh - I smiled at him, he smiled back and shook my hand briefly, real soft and gentle hand - and then...
Peter appeared at the top of the stairs and all I saw was this _hulk_, shoulders and pecs for days. I bumped Paul and said, "There's Peter." "Where's Peter?" he and Holly gasped. "Coming..." He came down off the bus and came straight at me, looking me in the eye and reaching his hand out. "Hey, how's it goin'?" he said, taking my hand. I swear, his hand was almost as soft as Josh's, twice as large and even gentler: my rather large hand was almost lost in his and it felt like silk wrapping around mine. As the fans converged, I mentioned, "Hello. I'm the reason that gentleman in Toronto asked what time you were born" as I took the Krewe of Bacchus Mardi Gras medallion I'd brought to the show from around my neck. He smiled and said, "Yeah, that was interesting," so no bad feelings J.D.
I gave the Bacchus medallion to Peter and said, "I brought this for you." He took it, looked at it briefly and said, fairly earnestly, after a moment, "Why, thank you." He talks differently to chicks than he does to guys, I noticed: his voice gets softer. I thought I'd be super nervous and dumbstruck by being that close to him but I relaxed instantly around him; for those who haven't met him yet, he has a very calm, mild air and a modest, gently shy manner, or at least he did that night: I can say the adjective I attribute to him most would be, again, "gentle." His eyes were quite green, even in the shadows, and because we were in the shadows I couldn't tell whether they were contacts or not; also we both kept cutting our eyes. He was wearing an olive drab t-shirt with the collar ripped off (to accommodate his massive lats and ease pressure off his delts, I should imagine - the former were at least as large as a wiry man's biceps). Peter reminded me a lot of the Old Clan Tzimisce character's player in the San Francisco VLARP.
He stood round briefly and talked to the kids, but didn't sign anything yet and apologetically said he had to go with the others and promised to be back. So he took off with the others and while he was walking down the sidewalk one of the Goth girls hanging about said in a stage whisper, "Nice butt," half to us and probably calculated to let him hear it, too. He didn't respond if he did.
So we hung about briefly and waited for them to come back, chattering. Holly took off right then and Paul paced around, saying he had to take a leak pretty soon. I think the quote of the evening came when I saw Peter come back out of the club and I came out with, "Peter Alert!" The other kids with me laughed and echoed it - I don't mean to blow my own horn but it stirred up quite a bit of hilarity and that's why I mentioned it as the quote of the evening. Anyway, he came down the stairs and the crowd of kids at the roadie truck surrounded him; I went down and by the time I got there, there was this orderly procession going up to him to get stuff signed, rather like a conveyor belt of autographs. Peter didn't talk except to say, "Who's next?," which rather got my back up. Not for me, it's just that I'm more used to bands hanging out, chatting, bullshitting - I guess it's Peter's shyness or something. I didn't have anything signed, I'm more interested in socializing. More than anything, even sex (which would have been nice, BTW - I wouldn't kick a gentle giant like that out of me sleepin' furs for an emperor's ransom), I wanted to take Peter aside, pull up a couple drinks, sit back and just chat. As he was getting ready to go, I tapped him lightly on the arm and said that I wanted to know what time he was born because I was born the day before and I wanted to know how much older than him I was.
I said, "I was born nine hours four minutes before you." He looked pleasantly amused (as I said before) and with a little smile said, "Really? Well, happy birthday."
I came back, with a sweetly wicked little smile, "No. Happy un-birthday!" He took off after that, back to the bus, where (we found out later) another girl was waiting for him.
The next few minutes I just hung and socialized with John and Josh. After Josh finished signing stuff, I went up and said, "I just wanted to check out the ink." Instantly, he held out his arms into the light and let me have a closeup look at his sleeves. It was kind of dark and the colours looked a little faded and slightly scattered, and the blackwork on his right forearm was even cheesier than Peter's griffin and "prowling," outlined, three-legged unintentionally Cubist panther: all skulls, batwings and spiderwebs. I showed him my sleeves and the buffalo/Anubis werewolf/raven cave painting-style tribute I had on my leg, and he said, "You got better taste in tattoos than me. You're doing yours nice and sparse, that's good. You'll be better off in the long run." I said, "I'm going for at least semi-full coverage, I'm just taking my time at it." I tapped his left shoulder and indicated the Japanese death god there and said, "That's pretty cool, let's see the octopus." He grinned and pulled his tricep around and everyone oohed and ahhed, crowding close. He smiled proudly and said, "Those two are the best. Take care, we'll see yahs." It would have been fun to do the full "show and tell," like this connects to this experience, I got this from this person, it hurt this much, it took this long, I got this at this time, and I wanted to ask if he ever made it to any of the NYC area tattoo conventions like AmJam, and mentioned seeing the chick who did his left sleeve and backpiece when I got the buffalo cave painting up at the Seattle Tattoo Tour a year ago this week. But, oh well.
Okay, after that, they all took off and everyone scattered. Paul and I went back to the car and sang along with _Origin of the Feces_ as we made an attempt to chase the tour bus down Fillmore, dodged cops in the 'hood, and battled our way through the eastbound 80 detour and resultant traffic pileup. A fifteen minute trip to Berkeley wound up taking the whole album! :(
Alright, users, I'm a half-hour late for the downtime meeting and it's forty-five minutes to the City, I gotta go! Sacramento show in the next post when I get back, sometime around Midnight tonight!

             (*<     unshetek
           //   \\   Lupus Paganis
          ||  *  ||
       ____\\   //____
       |____0|0|0____|/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
            \   /     "Overture, turn the lights
             | |        This is it, your night of nights
             | |        No more rehearsing and nursing a part
             | |       We know every part by heart
             | |         Overture, turn the lights
            /___\        This is it, we'll hit the heights
And oh, what heights we'll hit! On with the show, this is it!"
        - What? You mean you don't recognize this? ;)

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