Took the metro north to the big uneasy last evening with Nee to catch the Mars Volta.
They were to play when the hand graced eight in the stretcher-bonded alcazar that is the
Roseland Ballroom.
Here are just a few of the many strange and exciting
things that transpired that fine day:
* We eat quac carnitas the size of cow fetuses and drank pitchers of dark french coffee and mystical wheat-grass juice bar potions until we trundled from subway platform to platform like porcine tourists in a hurry to catch breakfast at the local drive-through.
* I was mistaken for a hesidic jew in times square by a rabbi holding an overripe avocado.
* We were dragged into the M&M store
by about twenty five Japanese excursionists in vintage clothes
where I could not help but ask myself the pertinent question
"Does the world really need a variety of 145 colors for single unflavored chocolate button?"
I wonder what the cerulean or sanguine maroon buggers taste like,
oh that's right, they're all the fucking same.
You can have yourself the milk chocolate ones , or milk chocolate ones , or milk chocolate ones,
or milk chocolate ones, or milk chocolate ones or milk chocolate ones with peanuts! How novel.
Call me ignorant to M&Mlore but I truly do not understand the point. Forgive me Jesus?
* We visited a mirrored sex shop complete with nudey-booth nickelodeons owned by forelorn Arab men and saw a six foot seven turquoise real-skin jelly dong in a glass shadowbox.
* The first shuttle we took got hijacked by an aqualung in a double-breasted houndstooth suit coat lugging an empty office water-cooler tank and begging for change for his newly assembled 'non for profit charity organization' titled "Christ Food for Children."
* Spent a good seventy minutes looking for my mates Buffalo Dyl and his drummer Mr. Joe and in the process ran into a chap that looked like Angus Scrimm after a discordant klonopin smoothie fueled bare-knuckle boxing match.
The vagabond informed us that "the po-po wasa tryin to kih hiz hawse!"
and insisted that we should
"Do drukqs and drinqz and drop out ov skoolz and be sumbuttyz wit uh leaffz!"
* Gave fifty cents to a puertorican with an overbite pretending to be deaf in a Jamba Juice.
Can't go wrong with New York!
Our concert experience began with two hours of standing in breezy autumnal twilight on partitioned sidewalk fins near a 50 foot billboard depicting scabies magnified and vicious that read in thick negro trebuchet "NEW YORK HAS BED BUGS!"
The tang of raw sewage, Chinese takeout, trash, nurtured car exhaust and cashews candied in dirty molten sucrose maneuvered like a spectre through the sting of metropolitan ozone.
The clocks hand struck eight across its freckled face like a tyrannous tyrannosaurus loan shark
collecting phantom debts with the use of biblical violence.
We shuffle in with bright white lights in our eyes, tickets between our fingers, bags open, tongues out and hands in the air like fresh detainees at the leucotomy farm.
The main floor becomes crowded quickly as hundreds of martians flood the club to see techs playing chords and testing sound equipment.
Women in canary yellow blazers hand out free blueberry flavored condoms drenched in spermicide once you've reached the bar and balcony sections.
A backdrop depicting the "singular cherubim" Proginoskes from Madeleine L'Engle's novel
A Wind in the Door hangs behind the amps and instruments.
We stand shoulder to shoulder, ass and genitals jostling each other like it or not for forty minutes.
Condoms are blown into makeshift volley balls as a powerful emanation of dirty bubblegum and juicy durban poison pushes through the stockades and richocets above the audience.
The house axed the P.A. abruptly in the middle of Pink Floyd's One of These Days and
Ennio Morricone's Fistful of Dollars signaled the arrival of the Omar, Cedric & company.
The fan howls drowned the intro as the band took to the stage and their weapons with enthusiasm.
The club was suddenly overcome by a rush of darkness and we lost our minds as their complex laser-aided backdrop unearthed itself and they began jamming.
Their set was as follows:
1. Inertiatic E.S.P.
The show began with the Son Et Lumiere segue detonating
into a frenetic kaleidoscopic rendition of the first song from their first LP.
It was a real treat to hear this oldy once more especially with the energy the band exuded.
2. Goliath
Next, they played a slower more condensed version of Goliath more akin
to its predecessor Rapid Fire Tollbooth. Omar improvised a tasty guitar solo at the end and the overheads went down once more as distorted licks and ambiance marked the transition.
3. Cotopaxi
A track from their new LP Octahedron was fantastic live.
Visceral sound with a hunt and kill mentality.
4. Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of)
A usual show opener known for its manic celestial energy and Floydish chorus refrain was instead used as an almost coda to Cotopaxi.
Instead of chugging guitars and Zorn-esque noodling they stripped the deloused anthem into a vulnerable soft cell cerebral ballad with echoes and sweet sex vocals.
The crowd seemed confused and still at times making an attempt to digest the new direction.
I'm ecstatic to see they are still experimenting and not compromising in the least bit their creative animus.
5. Viscera Eyes
The dance floor barreled like a crown of maggots to the Latin tinged riffs and Omar threw up two tight solo's before sound manipulation bore animalistic screeches and electric arc's.
6. Halo of Nembutals
I have mixed feelings about Halo;
Fans and bootleggers can trace its origins to a live version of Omar's solo canticle
Jacob Van Lennepkade which would later progress into a prototype of their epic twenty minute
Intro Jam (used to open several shows including Melbourne and Amsterdam.)
I am absolutely in love with Intro Jam and really wish they would incorporate some of the solos, bass and drum tracks in subsequent versions.
Lately it has appeared live as it did on Octahedron,
as a paired down straight forward 5 minute zeppelin-ish ditty.
They continue to play it safe, short and close to the studio...but I'm optimistic for the future.
I will say though it was really suprising to see Omar sing backup (ex. "Communion Shaped!")
for possibly the first time since their days in At the Drive In.
7. Eunuch Provocateur
One of the highlights of the evening for me!
Eunuch appeared on their first EP Tremulant and they haven't played it in years so it was really incredable. Pridgen's drumming was impressive and eclectic while Cedric dazzled us with extensive blocks of improvised lyrics.
8. Ilyena
"When the chants have cycled! How can I go wrong? There will be no Eve for Adam if your apples have gone gone gone. I need a brand new skin! Incarnated debt!"
Cedric sung beautifully in acapella.
This was my second time hearing Ilyena live and I most say they've perfected it with a interstellar outro and scattish vox and delivery.
9. Teflon
Pridgen set the pace with a battery of gunfire and the "Story Teeth Rotted For" sample slithered from the amps like a futuristic punk soul thirsty homonculi.
Nee's favorite song from the new album was breathtaking to say the least!
10. Drunkship of Lanterns
An epileptic strobe of rainbow accompanied Omar's riffery and marcel's furious slap of conga drums, Cedric danced up a storm with hand-springs, kicks, and an occasional swing of the microphone.
They jammed a bit in the middle otherwise it was a pretty faithful technically flawless homage to Deloused in the Comatorium.
11. Luciforms
The Volta teased the audience by grossly extending the intro riff until the rabid bellow of fans beckoned Mr. Zavala to begin with a delicate whisper of
"How much do you make in that death factory?"
and the crowd went batshit insane!
Luciforms was no doubt an improvisation playground for the band and was really brought to life in the fashion of Day of the Baphomets or Tetragrammaton.
12. The Widow
The Widow is that one song that even folks that don't like the Mars Volta like, its their Roundabout, their Lucky Man and impressively it was able to slink onto MTV's late night rotation and contorted airwaves shortly after the release of their second album
Frances the Mute;
a fete very few of their songs have achieved.
I first saw this number live on System of a Down's "Hypnotize/Mesmerize Tour" and was pleased with the accuracy and musicianship exhibited. I was expecting a tight, short rendition but was instead delighted by a five minute bass solo by Juan followed by an almost acoustic variation.
13. Wax Simulacra
This micro-cut marked the end of their set and another show down.
No more Toltec bones or idle teeth...
A bow and stage vacancy ejected bodies through vomitoriums and to the merchandise table.
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