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23 May 2007
W00T! Mrs. tr33 bought us Tool tickets!→[More:]I've been aching to see Tool for nigh on 13 years now. We don't have the greatest seats, but I don't care.
I have! I saw them on the Lateralus tour... it was a crazy, cool show. I went with a friend who's a major fan; I fall more into the "appreciate them but never really listen to them much" category. The theatricality of the whole thing was fun to watch, though, even without being familiar with all their songs.
I know how ya feel, my friend. For our first anniversary together, Pips bought tickets for us to see Kiss at Madison Square Garden. Great show. Sometimes I wonder how women can even tolerate us, let alone love us, but they do, thank God and we got two of the best ones.
Awesome! How nice! I think my husband would much rather see Tool than The Police. We're also going to see Ziggy Marley and the Neville Brothers, on the same night Tool is in Orlando. The man is a saint for going with me. He's a hard rock kind of guy.
oh, and Lori, we did end up going to that clothing optional bar in Ket West, The Garden of Eden on top of the Bull and Thistle bars. It was actually a very good time!
Indeed. At first it was a little weird. There was only one naked guy dancing. Not good naked either. But we ended up running into a couple we met at Mallory Square, and pretty soon she was topless, and mrs. tr33 didn't want her to feel left out (as if she needed much convincing!), so she went topless and ended up getting body painted with peacock feathers. I was strolling around in my boxers until two quite attractive young ladies asked me to lose them, said they had been waiting for it, so then I was stark naked except for my sandals. And by that time there were many many naked folk of all sorts.
At one point on the dance floor I got a little, ahem, excited and the bouncer asked me to "cool down." I said, whaddya want me to do, sprinkle salt on it? He just laughed and ambled off.
And that's probably more than anyone wants to know!
I saw Tool years ago when they had The Cows opening for them. I liked them at the time, but was really there to see the Cows. Unfortunately, the toquehead crowd were a bunch of knuckle-dragging boors, and heckled and threw things at the fantastic opening band, shouting for Tool. The Cows dealt with it with aplomb, putting on a killer show; the lead singer finished off by singing the last song standing on his head as beer cups rained down on him. Tool's lead singer came out and said, "Well, you guys win the prize." Naturally, the toques went wild, until he added "for the worst audience I've ever seen. We brought The Cows along because we like them." He went on to lecture the audience on their behaviour (I was one of a few cheering him on), and then Tool played a fast, contractual obligation-type set, no encore. Even pissed off, though, they were damned good. I'm sure the show you're going to will be fantastic. Enjoy!
On preview: whaddya want me to do, sprinkle salt on it?
Heh. Thankfully, the nude beach in Jersey allows alcohol in cans, so I could sit there drinking beer, but there wasn't much bar-type socializing going on, unless you count this random dude who stood in front of our area flexing his buttcheeks at me for 5 minutes until he gave up and walked away. Subtle, dude.
I was strolling around in my boxers until two quite attractive young ladies asked me to lose them, said they had been waiting for it,
you have a gift my friend. I raise my double-duece in your general direction.
have you ever been to Haulover, Lori? The first time I went the sand was really hot, so I kept my black Chucks on, and strolled down the beach in nothing but them with a Marlboro dangling from my lips. I was quite a sight. I was also so fishbelly pale that people were literally thrusting tubes of sunscreen at me. The next day I had to take a 13-hour Greyhound ride. It was a new adventure in discomfort.
Well, the thing about nude beaches is that when you're surrounded by so many naked people of all shapes and sizes after awhile you feel kind of strange if you don't bare all, oddly enough.
Tool are awesome live. I saw them at the Hammersmith Odeon (or whatever it's called this week) in London last year. The venue was small enough that they couldn't do the entire laser show thing that they apparently do in arenas, but the presentation was still fantastic. I'm seeing them again in August when they're back over in the UK.
Haven't seen Tool (I think I've only ever heard them a couple of times), but you must get there early to see Kinski. I really dig 'em, anyway. (If you do see them, you should know that their regular drummer and second guitarist couldn't make the tour, due to the last-minute nature of the invitation from Tool. Instead, they've got a couple of guys from the Master Musicians of Bukkake (who are good, if quite odd, in their own right) playing with them.)
Ok, yeah, found some tunes online. Like it I do. They remind me of some other Japanese noise band that were even more chaotic. I got one of their tapes when I used to publish a zine, but I'll be damned if I can remember their name. Wait! The Boredoms. Now that was some crazy shit. I used to call one of my buddies and just let that tape play into his answering machine.
Yeah, I don't listen to a lot of noise music when I'm, y'know, wearing my slippers, reading leather-bound volumes of poetry and sipping Trappist beers from a brandy snifter the size of a fishbowl, but it often makes for great live performances.
Waitasec, youse are talking about Japanese noise music? Okay, you gotta check out Otomo Yoshihide/Ground Zero's Revolutionary Pekinese Opera, Ver. 1.28, and once you're done with that, you'll want to check out the rest of the songs and offshoots of this collective. Some of my favorite ever music.
On the concert tip, a gorgeous duck-assed French girl took me to see Radiohead open for REM in Tel Aviv one summer night when my latent dysentary chose to knock my fever up to 103; I lay with my head in her lap and she drank all the wine and we sat for free on a hill behind Ramat Gan. While I slept through the show, the fever broke. She passed out in my lap on the sherut home. She played good basketball down on the post, had a wicked hook shot, and her hair smelled somewhere between lavender and rose. Three weeks after we said goodbye we sent simultaneous letters telling each other we wished we'd had the guts to say "love." Hers was in English, mine in French.
photo by splunge
photo by TheophileEscargot
photo by Kronos_to_Earth
photo by ethylene
