Friday, January 14, 2011
I actually forgot that I went to this show, hence the late(no surprise there!) and out of sequence review. But I'll spare you the pain and make this trip back in time brief. I was at band practice in the Tenderloin, just down the street, and Hozi from Helms Alee sent me a text asking me I wanted to be on the list for the show that night. Fuck yeah! I got in, got my extra fancy backstage wrist manacle, and hung out amdist the subterranean bordello fuck stalls of the Great American's sordid history. These are now called the dressing rooms, by the way, and are used as such. Helms Alee had some fancy beer in cans that was really strong I drank a few and began staggering like a veteran of the psychic wars down slanting corridors. Soon my crippled brain was treated to Helm's Alee's captivating performance. I think this band is one of the few out there (with way too many trying) that captures the simultaneous majesty, quirkiness, and flat out HEAVINESS of the The Melvins. Their hearts are in the right place, and their roots are in the fetid backwaters of the South Puget Sound. Enough said.
I spent most of the Red Sparrows set hanging backstage and getting more drunk, and I wasn't really in the mood for epic cinematic instrumental rock anyway (it usually takes between one and three pharmaceutical grade doses of something or other). While in the dungeon, I was privy to the wild backstage antics of international rock stars Boris. The frontpersons, apparently a couple, were doting on their young child in one of the rooms as I passed by. How irresponsible! What egotistical, self absorbed dicks. Ignoring all the poor, enterprising drug dealers pounding on their door, so they can spend time with their baby!
A line of slutty groupies was waiting outside the door of the drummer's room, but he was nowhere to be found. I was still throwing down a good amount of these crazy ass beers, and I had to drain my main vein. In the bathroom I found the drummer peacefully doing his hair in the mirror. He was using a brush and a minimal amount of hairspray.
I can't say I've been too fond of Boris' most recent output, as it seems they have been leaning towards a more ambient, shoe gazing (also known as BORING) style. I went out to the floor about midway through the set, and the music had been pretty slow, but it began to pick up, and they played some older stuff from the Pink album, and even some of the really heavy stuff from before that, I think. They were finally, about an hour in, able to remind me why they BLEW MY MIND back in 2005 at Slim's. And they still have the gong too. Heavy.
Labels: Boris, Great American Music Hall, Helms Alee, Red Sparrows
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