Monday, November 12, 2012

Live show: Psychic TV at Rotture, 11/10/2012

First of all, hi everybody! First post here. I'm me, you're you. I write things sometimes! You read things (I hope) sometimes! Introductions over. Let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?

I just got home from seeing Psychic TV headline a four-band set, and boy are my legs tired. I'd have said arms, but as it turns out, I don't stand on those for hours, and I drove home instead of flying.

First things first.

Today, I learned that if you're talking to someone about rigging up a show review, and you ask for a guest list spot +1, that you should make sure they actually confirm it in writing before you assume they're going to go ahead and let you in. You see, when you assume, you have to get to have a brief argument very friendly chat with a fermented pile of elephant spunk very friendly fellow in a cheap beautiful suit who is drinking on the job just trying to protect his financial interests. He lets you know that "it's my show, and I can't honor that." So, me and my +1 decided, after some deliberation (okay, it mostly involved shrugging our shoulders indifferently and stating "well, we're already here") to just get over it and pay our door charges and go in.

And then you have to get on the Internet and complain about it. Done.

ALSO, there was a concert. Which I saw.

The lineup was Psychic TV, DBC (apparently this stands for 'Dangerous Boys Club'), King Dude, and Vice Device. Psychic TV is currently on a mini-tour in support of their first release in several years, a 12" single titled Silver Sundown Machine vs. Alien Lightning Meat Machine.

I have absolutely no idea what order the openers played in, so I'll just go chronologically.

The first band played their entire set before I managed to make it through the line, but I listened very intently through the wall outside. It was, to my trained ear, something like thuddity-thuddity-thuddity-RAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHH; when I got in, my +1 noted that one of the openers had just finished a sound check. That was their set, as it turns out. Not much to say about that, aside from that someone made a confusing booking decision there.

The next band, whoever they were, was great! They probably practiced for at least five hours in one of their parents' basements, and were doing a grand job with the snare drum that one of them got in sixth grade band class and the Casio they found in a dumpster outside of Best Buy. (Full disclosure: It probably was not a Casio. I'm pretty sure about the sixth grade band class thing, though.) After a few songs, I was suddenly glad that when I was in grade school that the band teacher refused to let me play the drums. If I had boobs and a Chelsea haircut, that totally could have been ME up there.

After the second band finished up their three song set, I went outside and chatted for what seemed like long enough to miss the entire third set in its entirety, but I managed to only miss the setup of said third set.

The third band was the most interesting and alarming opening act yet, for a number of reasons:

1.) The set was played entirely by a fog machine. I don't think there were any people actually on stage. This is a clear indication that Skynet has become self-aware. Sorry to break this to you when all you wanted to do was read a blog post. We're all screwed. That, or they just used too much fog so we could see that they had LASERS. Not really sure which, but I haven't seen that much smoke in one place since a friend of mine accidentally ignited about a pint of flash powder he was holding. Protip: Don't do that.  EDITOR'S NOTE:  I was there.  Really, don't do it.

2.) While I didn't actually recognize any of the songs, I am 100% certain that I heard them all at concerts between 1992-1995. This is a clear indication that that guy from the venue, whom I previously identified as a very friendly fellow, saved the world by destroying causality and sending us back a decade to stop the terminators before it's too late.

3.) I know that for effect, I'm supposed to have three things, but I don't, so I'm just going to use #3 to state that. There you are, then.

They also seem to have played about three songs.

So, then Psychic TV came on, they pulled out all the stops, probably dosed the entire venue with some sort of hallucinogen, and started doing their thing.

I had been initially informed that Genesis P-Orridge was done touring, so was totally unsure what to expect from the show if the only static member of the band was not actually performing with them. Apparently, however, rumors of Genesis having retired from touring have been greatly exaggerated, because there (s)he was on stage, singing and chatting away. It took me about half a song to determine to any degree of certainty that it WAS Genesis, as prior information had stated that (s)he was not going to be there, but if it wasn't him/her, then they had signed on a very impressive doppelganger who was exactly as off-key as I remember Genesis being from what I could recall from my dabbling in Throbbing Gristle/Psychic TV in my youth. That's right. I experimented as a kid. C'mon, didn't we all?

Also curious: I think Psychic TV played about three songs too. They spanned nearly 2 hours, though. See what I mean about having three things here?

Anyway, I recognized exactly none of the set, having not listened to any of their 2,540 albums* beyond a handful of songs in the 90s, but I like to think that gave me a nice, clean, unbiased slate.

* - Give or take. They might have only put out 2,538. There was that one year where they put out an album every 95 minutes month, after all...

So, we stood around, soaking in an darker set of songs than I expected, which frequently seemed to channel Black Sabbath or Pink Floyd. They were pretty solid, considering that this was stop number two on a Very Small Tour, and they mostly packed the house, which is not too shabby for a band whose core fan base probably already died/went permanently insane from an overdose of something.

I did not, unfortunately, manage to catch any names of the people who were performing with him while they were doing the mid-set introductions, but the guitarist was David Della Rocco.

Who knew he could play guitar?!

Also of note: There were a surprisingly large number of dudes with Rip Van Winkle caliber beards in that place. I am unsure of the significance of this. Discuss.

EDITOR'S NOTE:  Shad isn't sick, precisely, but neither is he well.  Thanks for the great first post!

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