Zen
05-09-2003, 10:53 AM
I know this is long, just read the headings and figure out which one you are.
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1. The "Play Freebird!" Guy:
How did this whole "Freebird" phenomenon start, anyhow? Every ****ing show, some yahoo has to scream that **** out. Who was the first guy to shout out this request? Why that song? Why not "Stairway to Heaven" or the Pina Colada song? Do they actually want the band to play "Freebird"? (mh)
2. The "Oh my god, the Strokes are so cute" Girl:
They're at every show. The cheerleader who tortured you in high school now has a bob cut, dyed-black hair and a studded belt. Except now, instead of worshiping Dave Matthews and the guy from The Counting Crows, she is after the so called "indie" boys. She and her friends spend the majority of the night scoping out shaggy haired boys, completely ignoring the opening band because there are no cute boys in it. Besides, they haven't been mentioned in Spin yet (but once they are, she'll be the first to say she saw them play). Then once the cute boy band comes on, they squeeze their way to the front ('cause hey, they're cute girls, who's gonna object?) and squeal the night away. Never do I feel more ashamed of my own sex than at times like these. (mh)
3. The white guy with no rhythm syndrome:
Spare us your spastic epileptic outburst, please. And no, jumping up and down vigorously is not considered dancing. Let me guess, you haven't been out of the house since the last Metallica show, right? Dude, are you doing jumping jacks? I think you broke my toe! (mh)
4. The Human Hippie Sex Pretzel:
It never fails. And you should really know better but you save ten bucks and buy the lawn seats for some outdoor rock/jam/festival extravaganza, ignoring your better judgment and previous experiences. You spread your blanket out, crack open a beer and as the first guitar note falls to your ears, so does a distinct slobbering sound. You look to your right and yes, the hippies are having the sex...the loud animalistic sex that could only be fueled by countless bowls and beers. Do we really need this? And for Chrissake, they're not even real hippies. They stepped out of a BMW or a VW Beetle with a flower growing out of the dash and you can see the goddamn MUDD label on her ****ing jeans that are sticking out of her skirt. Fake hippies drive me nuts, but the sex...come on, leave that at home. (jj)
5. Joe and Jane Hollywood Making the Scene:
My friend Chris calls excessive cell phone users Joe Hollywoods (funny, his ear looks a lot like a phone a lot of the time). You always see Joe Hollywoods at concerts, making important calls, checking pertinent voice mails and generally just being irritating. There's nothing better than being in a particularly crowded venue, watching a great band tear it up, and then seeing some guy answer his cell phone. The band is rolling at full volume; how did this **** hear his brain-sweller in that noise? Then it’s always nice to stand next to this genius as he covers his other ear (for soundproofing) and begins screaming into his phone so his friend can hear him over the, ahem, annoying rock show going on around him. Oh, sorry buddy. I can see it now: a new version of the Rolling Stones' movie, Gimme Shelter. But instead of Mick shouting at Keith to stop playing because the Hell's Angels are beating up someone in the crowd...it's actually just someone trying to make a call. Hang on everyone, Joe Hollywood's calling his broker...people, people, could we have some silence here? Have we gotten out of hand with the damn cellphones or what? (jj)
6. The "Standing still with arms crossed for three hours" Guy:
This would be the opposite of the "dancing with no rhythm" dude. This specimen works his way up to the front the moment he gets into the venue, than proceeds to stand at attention with his arms crossed throughout the entire show. The band could do an apocalyptic, feverish, nine minute song that sends the entire audience into a dancing fit, but he's not even going to clap. The performer could pour his heart out and reveal his innermost fears and secret desires, and this guy wouldn't blink. You people may think this rock'n'roll thing is all fun and games, but this guy realizes the seriousness of it all. (mh)
7. The Intertwining Snakes/Non-Hippie Love Pretzel:
I don't know how many times I've seen this but it's pretty damn irritating. You'll be standing up, waiting for a band to come on, and in front of you is a normal, average couple. right? The band starts, and suddenly the guy of the couple stands behind the girl of the couple, puts one arm around her neck in some kind of caressing chokehold, puts his other arm around her waist, and proceeds to gyrate and dry-hump her back during the song, with no rhythm whatsoever. I was at the Hurricane in KC one time, turned around and actually saw a guy fingering his girlfriend over her jeans during a Dirtnap show. What the hell is going on here? How can that possibly be pleasurable for the woman involved? And if it is, why aren't they making a glove made entirely out of old jean jackets for guys to wear during sex? Regardless, stop doing this at shows...please. It hurts my eyes. (jj)
8. The "abnormally tall" guy:
Why does he choose me to stand in front of at every show? Even if he's nowhere to be found when I select my "spot" for the night ("Ahhh, I can see great from here"), he appears as soon as the first lick is played. His huge head seems to have an uncanny ability to sense when my own is tilting in an attempt to see around it. Each of my attempts is met with his own synchronized head movement. For the remainder of the night we will play this game. I move slightly to the left; so does he. I try his right side; he moves back to the right. So on and so forth, and by the end of the show, I've seen more of his ear than the stage. (mh)
9. Tattoo It on Your Forehead, Dude:
Maybe this is just me, but doesn't it piss you off when you see the one guy wearing the t-shirt of the band that is playing that night? I don't know...it just seems like overkill to me. You're at the show, man. We know you like the band. Do you really need to be wearing the t-shirt tonight? It seems petty, but it's just a rule. It's just one of those things you don't do, like ordering the exact same thing as someone else at a restaurant -- it just pisses people off. (jj)
10. Can you say "negative jock"?:
Remember all the jocks and preps in high school that spent hours picking out the perfect Gap jeans and matching sweaters, or all the *******s in Big Johnson T-shirts? Well, THEY'RE BAAAACK! Of course, they've changed their stripes and the breeding is a bit different, but we're working on the same principles. These are the people you see at concerts wearing soda pop delivery jackets embroidered with some nicely ironic, plebian name like "Stan". They have thrift-store dress pants and amazingly perfect "messed up" hair. These are stand-offish, know-it-all music pricks who spent just as many hours as a prep kid "fixing" their hair, clothes and make-up so it would look like they didn't spend any time at all. In short, they are "negative" jocks -- the antithesis of popular kids, yet just as evil in every way. Strangle these kids with their wallet chains whenever you get the chance. (jj)
11. The Fledgling photographer, aka "Flash, flash, flash":
This person either fancies himself a rock journalist, or needs proof beyond a ticket stub that he attended a show. He spends the entire show snapping shots (flash, flash, flash) every time the singer makes a face (flash, flash, flash), the guitarist strikes a pose (flash, flash, flash) or the bassist takes a drink of water (flash, flash, flash). By the end of the night the stage has been transformed into a Prada runway. Gone are the days of the Polaroid; nowadays they have all kinds of fancy ass high tech gadgets. I don't see how anyone could enjoy a show while holding a five pound digital camcorder for the duration, but hey, what do I know? My only question is why doesn't the abnormally tall guy ever go bother them? (mh)
12. The "play the hit" Guy:
He only came to hear that one song, and he's gonna make sure you play it -- even if he has to scream "Play Miss Misery!" at the top of his lungs, between every song. I don't see why anyone would pay $15 to hear the one song that's on the radio every day, but again, what do I know? Obviously this guy is not only unfamiliar with the performer’s other songs, but he also seems to be clueless to the fact that if a band has a hit song, chances are they're going to play it. When the band does finally play the song (Oh, wow, they saved it for the encore, who would have seen that coming?) he hoots, and looks at the rest of us with a victorious smile, as if to say, "See what a little persistence can accomplish? Now aren't you all glad I screamed so loud and so often?". (mh)
13. The drunk:
There's always someone that gets carried away and has a few too many. It's fine if you're seeing a punk show, where rowdy behavior is expected, but it's just plain wrong when it's during a Mazzy Star show. The drunkard starts hitting on people and behaving as if we're all somehow friends. They holler and request songs that they've forgotten the titles to. They're so freakin’ wasted that all they can think of is a lyric (ie. "Love! Love!") or they try to convey an emotion (ie. "Rock! The raawk one!" points at the bassist. "The one you sing. DO the one you sing.") And sometimes they just scream any of the above and no one (the band included) knows what the hell they're talking about. Not only are the fans confused by you, but you've managed to offend the band. Worse than that, you've just tainted our city/venues with your ignorance and next time when this band tours they are going to think of us and remember your ass screaming drunk retardedness into the air. And it's no coincidence that these people are usually standing alone with a beer and a look of "aren't I cool?" Oh, you so are. (mh)
14. The knowledgeable B-side fan:
Alright, you know all the songs. In fact, you know all the B-sides, live tracks, never-been-released tracks, and the haven't-even-been-written songs by the artist. Congratulations. But could you keep it to yourself? Maybe if you typed up a discography and handed it to me in essay form in one of those special essay-clear-plastic folders, you'd feel better and we'd both be impressed. In the meantime, request "B-sides" for $500 on Jeopardy or post something on a message board or email something to a fan site that tells everyone just how knowledgeable you truly are. (mh)
15. Moon Unit, Frank Zappa called and he wants you to clean your room:
This girl...I don't even know how to start. There's some serious punk or hardcore on stage. The guitars are ripping your skull apart and you look to your left, and here's our girl. She's slowly twirling pirouettes, eyes closed, one leg up, swishing and swashing all around. The bass player's thumping a line so thick it could split your eyeballs, yet she's prancing around performing some freakin’ spiritual Dance of the White-Tailed Doe! Her eyes have rolled into the back of her head and she's totally lost in some Wiccan moment, spirits swirling around her head, and there's incense lit and faeries are flying around and sprinkling dust near her aura. Just stop! For the love of God, stop. I'm all for dancing, but try and get with the music being played, and leave your life crystals at home, okay? (jj)
16. Bite the Hand that Honks You:
Great show. Thrilling performance. Your ears were throttled by some of the best music money can buy. You walk out to the parking lot, still a little dazed, get into your car and work your way into the growing line of cars trying to squeeze out of a little exit driveway. We're talking about one of those lines where it’s four cars wide narrowing to a single, six-foot-wide strip of blacktop. But the silence is good and you'll be moving soon, albeit slowly, so you just relax and wait it out. And then it starts. The honking. The uncontrollable, loud as ****, like nails scratching on chalkboard honking. From here, from there, from everywhere...everyone is honking their horn. Somehow, every ****ing idiot in a car has been duped into believing their horns are a traffic modulator and if they honk it hard enough all the cars will melt into the ground, leaving a clear path for them and their blatting horns. "It says right here in the manual, honey, if we bang on this round circle in the middle of the steering wheel long enough, the Traffic Fairy appears and whisks off to the Highway of Milk and Honey." All horn abusers should be sent to a country where they still cut people's hands off for crimes. (jj)
17. The wannabe rock star:
He's not a musician; he only dresses like one. He comes to each show disguised as the lead singer from the band playing that night. "Is that the guy from Dashboard Confessional?" "No dude, I think that's Ryan Adams." He's usually alone (pouting dutifully), or with a group of folks dressed as the remaining members of the band. His girlfriend resembles Liza Minnelli on crack, and his hair is meticulously styled to look like it hasn't been combed in months. No one who isn't on a stage, posing, with an instrument in his hands, has any business wearing pants that tight. I usually try to imagine these people buying groceries or doing laundry in their rock star threads, but it's futile since they don't exist outside of the rock venue. (mh)
__________________________________________________
1. The "Play Freebird!" Guy:
How did this whole "Freebird" phenomenon start, anyhow? Every ****ing show, some yahoo has to scream that **** out. Who was the first guy to shout out this request? Why that song? Why not "Stairway to Heaven" or the Pina Colada song? Do they actually want the band to play "Freebird"? (mh)
2. The "Oh my god, the Strokes are so cute" Girl:
They're at every show. The cheerleader who tortured you in high school now has a bob cut, dyed-black hair and a studded belt. Except now, instead of worshiping Dave Matthews and the guy from The Counting Crows, she is after the so called "indie" boys. She and her friends spend the majority of the night scoping out shaggy haired boys, completely ignoring the opening band because there are no cute boys in it. Besides, they haven't been mentioned in Spin yet (but once they are, she'll be the first to say she saw them play). Then once the cute boy band comes on, they squeeze their way to the front ('cause hey, they're cute girls, who's gonna object?) and squeal the night away. Never do I feel more ashamed of my own sex than at times like these. (mh)
3. The white guy with no rhythm syndrome:
Spare us your spastic epileptic outburst, please. And no, jumping up and down vigorously is not considered dancing. Let me guess, you haven't been out of the house since the last Metallica show, right? Dude, are you doing jumping jacks? I think you broke my toe! (mh)
4. The Human Hippie Sex Pretzel:
It never fails. And you should really know better but you save ten bucks and buy the lawn seats for some outdoor rock/jam/festival extravaganza, ignoring your better judgment and previous experiences. You spread your blanket out, crack open a beer and as the first guitar note falls to your ears, so does a distinct slobbering sound. You look to your right and yes, the hippies are having the sex...the loud animalistic sex that could only be fueled by countless bowls and beers. Do we really need this? And for Chrissake, they're not even real hippies. They stepped out of a BMW or a VW Beetle with a flower growing out of the dash and you can see the goddamn MUDD label on her ****ing jeans that are sticking out of her skirt. Fake hippies drive me nuts, but the sex...come on, leave that at home. (jj)
5. Joe and Jane Hollywood Making the Scene:
My friend Chris calls excessive cell phone users Joe Hollywoods (funny, his ear looks a lot like a phone a lot of the time). You always see Joe Hollywoods at concerts, making important calls, checking pertinent voice mails and generally just being irritating. There's nothing better than being in a particularly crowded venue, watching a great band tear it up, and then seeing some guy answer his cell phone. The band is rolling at full volume; how did this **** hear his brain-sweller in that noise? Then it’s always nice to stand next to this genius as he covers his other ear (for soundproofing) and begins screaming into his phone so his friend can hear him over the, ahem, annoying rock show going on around him. Oh, sorry buddy. I can see it now: a new version of the Rolling Stones' movie, Gimme Shelter. But instead of Mick shouting at Keith to stop playing because the Hell's Angels are beating up someone in the crowd...it's actually just someone trying to make a call. Hang on everyone, Joe Hollywood's calling his broker...people, people, could we have some silence here? Have we gotten out of hand with the damn cellphones or what? (jj)
6. The "Standing still with arms crossed for three hours" Guy:
This would be the opposite of the "dancing with no rhythm" dude. This specimen works his way up to the front the moment he gets into the venue, than proceeds to stand at attention with his arms crossed throughout the entire show. The band could do an apocalyptic, feverish, nine minute song that sends the entire audience into a dancing fit, but he's not even going to clap. The performer could pour his heart out and reveal his innermost fears and secret desires, and this guy wouldn't blink. You people may think this rock'n'roll thing is all fun and games, but this guy realizes the seriousness of it all. (mh)
7. The Intertwining Snakes/Non-Hippie Love Pretzel:
I don't know how many times I've seen this but it's pretty damn irritating. You'll be standing up, waiting for a band to come on, and in front of you is a normal, average couple. right? The band starts, and suddenly the guy of the couple stands behind the girl of the couple, puts one arm around her neck in some kind of caressing chokehold, puts his other arm around her waist, and proceeds to gyrate and dry-hump her back during the song, with no rhythm whatsoever. I was at the Hurricane in KC one time, turned around and actually saw a guy fingering his girlfriend over her jeans during a Dirtnap show. What the hell is going on here? How can that possibly be pleasurable for the woman involved? And if it is, why aren't they making a glove made entirely out of old jean jackets for guys to wear during sex? Regardless, stop doing this at shows...please. It hurts my eyes. (jj)
8. The "abnormally tall" guy:
Why does he choose me to stand in front of at every show? Even if he's nowhere to be found when I select my "spot" for the night ("Ahhh, I can see great from here"), he appears as soon as the first lick is played. His huge head seems to have an uncanny ability to sense when my own is tilting in an attempt to see around it. Each of my attempts is met with his own synchronized head movement. For the remainder of the night we will play this game. I move slightly to the left; so does he. I try his right side; he moves back to the right. So on and so forth, and by the end of the show, I've seen more of his ear than the stage. (mh)
9. Tattoo It on Your Forehead, Dude:
Maybe this is just me, but doesn't it piss you off when you see the one guy wearing the t-shirt of the band that is playing that night? I don't know...it just seems like overkill to me. You're at the show, man. We know you like the band. Do you really need to be wearing the t-shirt tonight? It seems petty, but it's just a rule. It's just one of those things you don't do, like ordering the exact same thing as someone else at a restaurant -- it just pisses people off. (jj)
10. Can you say "negative jock"?:
Remember all the jocks and preps in high school that spent hours picking out the perfect Gap jeans and matching sweaters, or all the *******s in Big Johnson T-shirts? Well, THEY'RE BAAAACK! Of course, they've changed their stripes and the breeding is a bit different, but we're working on the same principles. These are the people you see at concerts wearing soda pop delivery jackets embroidered with some nicely ironic, plebian name like "Stan". They have thrift-store dress pants and amazingly perfect "messed up" hair. These are stand-offish, know-it-all music pricks who spent just as many hours as a prep kid "fixing" their hair, clothes and make-up so it would look like they didn't spend any time at all. In short, they are "negative" jocks -- the antithesis of popular kids, yet just as evil in every way. Strangle these kids with their wallet chains whenever you get the chance. (jj)
11. The Fledgling photographer, aka "Flash, flash, flash":
This person either fancies himself a rock journalist, or needs proof beyond a ticket stub that he attended a show. He spends the entire show snapping shots (flash, flash, flash) every time the singer makes a face (flash, flash, flash), the guitarist strikes a pose (flash, flash, flash) or the bassist takes a drink of water (flash, flash, flash). By the end of the night the stage has been transformed into a Prada runway. Gone are the days of the Polaroid; nowadays they have all kinds of fancy ass high tech gadgets. I don't see how anyone could enjoy a show while holding a five pound digital camcorder for the duration, but hey, what do I know? My only question is why doesn't the abnormally tall guy ever go bother them? (mh)
12. The "play the hit" Guy:
He only came to hear that one song, and he's gonna make sure you play it -- even if he has to scream "Play Miss Misery!" at the top of his lungs, between every song. I don't see why anyone would pay $15 to hear the one song that's on the radio every day, but again, what do I know? Obviously this guy is not only unfamiliar with the performer’s other songs, but he also seems to be clueless to the fact that if a band has a hit song, chances are they're going to play it. When the band does finally play the song (Oh, wow, they saved it for the encore, who would have seen that coming?) he hoots, and looks at the rest of us with a victorious smile, as if to say, "See what a little persistence can accomplish? Now aren't you all glad I screamed so loud and so often?". (mh)
13. The drunk:
There's always someone that gets carried away and has a few too many. It's fine if you're seeing a punk show, where rowdy behavior is expected, but it's just plain wrong when it's during a Mazzy Star show. The drunkard starts hitting on people and behaving as if we're all somehow friends. They holler and request songs that they've forgotten the titles to. They're so freakin’ wasted that all they can think of is a lyric (ie. "Love! Love!") or they try to convey an emotion (ie. "Rock! The raawk one!" points at the bassist. "The one you sing. DO the one you sing.") And sometimes they just scream any of the above and no one (the band included) knows what the hell they're talking about. Not only are the fans confused by you, but you've managed to offend the band. Worse than that, you've just tainted our city/venues with your ignorance and next time when this band tours they are going to think of us and remember your ass screaming drunk retardedness into the air. And it's no coincidence that these people are usually standing alone with a beer and a look of "aren't I cool?" Oh, you so are. (mh)
14. The knowledgeable B-side fan:
Alright, you know all the songs. In fact, you know all the B-sides, live tracks, never-been-released tracks, and the haven't-even-been-written songs by the artist. Congratulations. But could you keep it to yourself? Maybe if you typed up a discography and handed it to me in essay form in one of those special essay-clear-plastic folders, you'd feel better and we'd both be impressed. In the meantime, request "B-sides" for $500 on Jeopardy or post something on a message board or email something to a fan site that tells everyone just how knowledgeable you truly are. (mh)
15. Moon Unit, Frank Zappa called and he wants you to clean your room:
This girl...I don't even know how to start. There's some serious punk or hardcore on stage. The guitars are ripping your skull apart and you look to your left, and here's our girl. She's slowly twirling pirouettes, eyes closed, one leg up, swishing and swashing all around. The bass player's thumping a line so thick it could split your eyeballs, yet she's prancing around performing some freakin’ spiritual Dance of the White-Tailed Doe! Her eyes have rolled into the back of her head and she's totally lost in some Wiccan moment, spirits swirling around her head, and there's incense lit and faeries are flying around and sprinkling dust near her aura. Just stop! For the love of God, stop. I'm all for dancing, but try and get with the music being played, and leave your life crystals at home, okay? (jj)
16. Bite the Hand that Honks You:
Great show. Thrilling performance. Your ears were throttled by some of the best music money can buy. You walk out to the parking lot, still a little dazed, get into your car and work your way into the growing line of cars trying to squeeze out of a little exit driveway. We're talking about one of those lines where it’s four cars wide narrowing to a single, six-foot-wide strip of blacktop. But the silence is good and you'll be moving soon, albeit slowly, so you just relax and wait it out. And then it starts. The honking. The uncontrollable, loud as ****, like nails scratching on chalkboard honking. From here, from there, from everywhere...everyone is honking their horn. Somehow, every ****ing idiot in a car has been duped into believing their horns are a traffic modulator and if they honk it hard enough all the cars will melt into the ground, leaving a clear path for them and their blatting horns. "It says right here in the manual, honey, if we bang on this round circle in the middle of the steering wheel long enough, the Traffic Fairy appears and whisks off to the Highway of Milk and Honey." All horn abusers should be sent to a country where they still cut people's hands off for crimes. (jj)
17. The wannabe rock star:
He's not a musician; he only dresses like one. He comes to each show disguised as the lead singer from the band playing that night. "Is that the guy from Dashboard Confessional?" "No dude, I think that's Ryan Adams." He's usually alone (pouting dutifully), or with a group of folks dressed as the remaining members of the band. His girlfriend resembles Liza Minnelli on crack, and his hair is meticulously styled to look like it hasn't been combed in months. No one who isn't on a stage, posing, with an instrument in his hands, has any business wearing pants that tight. I usually try to imagine these people buying groceries or doing laundry in their rock star threads, but it's futile since they don't exist outside of the rock venue. (mh)