Okay, I'm not one for cute personal stories or day-to-day chronicles of everyday life, but HOLY FUCKING DOG BISCUITS, my band just opened for Apocalyptica!
I noted this little detail to a particularly disgruntled reader last week, who assumed that my life aspirations consisted solely of writing disagreeable reviews and being an overall idiot. Well, those points may still be debatable, but my band Bushwhack did, indeed, go on right before the Finnish Cello whizzes took the Webster Theater stage last night and it was pretty awesome ... I think.
Actually, most of our set is a big blur to me. I live for playing out, but the entire experience is such a cluster-fuck of miscommunications, technical difficulties, and garden varieties of unanticipated stresses that the performance itself seems to just float right by. We scurried on stage, I hit the click (note the totally bad-ass ear muffs I'm wearing), jammed out some tunes, and got the hell out of there (the stage director made sure of that).
The crowd seemed to really dig our chill progressive metal vibes and it was only a matter of minutes before our keytaring boy of wonder, Frank Sacramone, had a harem of teeny boppers just itching for him to tickle their ivories (they all wanted lessons; geez, get your mind out of the gutter).
As for Apocalyptica, they were pretty sweet. I can say, without a doubt, that I've never attended a show quite like theirs. I couldn't really see their style translating to a live environment, but the head-banging, cello-swinging theatrics in no way disappointed.
It is a shame, though, that most listeners only know the band for their radio singles; they say almost nothing of the group's true ability. Their instrumental material (of which most of their repertoire consists of) is consistently unique and of roughly equal epicosity to their majestic hair.
Maybe just a "little" better than "I Don't Care"
"Paavs;" lacking in the locks
I suppose that's not 100% true, as my absent girlfriend's favorite, Paavo Lotjonen, rocks the short and studdly cut. I guess it works for him, but Eicca ... ahhhh ... that man is dreamy.
After the group Finnished (geddit? LOLZ), we shuffled outside to ambush Apocalyptica in front of their bus. That didn't quite work out. Frigid North Eastern weather can do a number on a fan or opening act's resolve; our's faded after about 45 minutes of cold air and warm diner cravings.
I did meet an interesting woman outside who makes music videos with fire and snakes. I'm not sure if we'll be employing those services anytime soon, but she did manage to introduce me to another apparent doppleganger of mine:
-TARKAN-
Yeah ... I don't know about that one.
The night did not end without excitement as our guest singer, Roly Velazquez, and I both got intimately acquainted with the Hartford police after I ran an orange light near the venue... I did get a good chance to plug us to the officers, so hopefully they give us a listen!
After about four hours of sleep and lots of drum lugging and tugging this morning, I had the pleasure of driving from New Haven to Boston College for class this morning amidst a spring monsoon.
Back to reality.
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