The Stick of Destiny

The Entire Jagged Spiral Crew (And 2/3 of our fans) went to First Avenue last night for the Celtic Frost / Type O Negative show. There was an opening band, but unfortunately we got there just as they ended.

After a refreshing frisk at the doorway, we proceeded upstairs where we could get our drink on. When the sound check started for Celtic Frost, we descended to the mosh pit.

I don’t know about you-all, but I learned long ago that I do not pay $22 to hide near the coat check, or hang near the womens’ restroom to oogle. I can go do that for free at Barnes and Noble in Maple Grove. The quality isn’t nearly as good, but you get what you pay for…but I digress.

Anyway, I don’t fear the mosh pit, especially not here in Minnesota. So we stood in the center of the crowd when Celtic Frost opened up, and held our ground until the end of their set.

They were Loud. They were Tight. They were ON. These guys have been playing for YEARS. Celtic Frost was popular with skaters back in the 80’s fer chrissake. They were scary. They wore face paint, and they made KISS look like a bunch of pussies. I could easily imagine any of them dismembering fans and roadies alike backstage as a warmup for the show. Especially the bass player.  [shiver]

The band finished, and the drummer threw his drumsticks into the mosh pit. One of the sticks bounced off at least three outstretched hands before rolling to at stop at the feet of…


I’m telling you that stick went to him, like he was meant to have it.

He did not pick it up right away. He looked around first, as the room went silent, and the eyes of the entire crowd watched to see what he would do. Then as gracefully as King Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone, Josh picked up the drumstick that had pounded a ringing into our ears for the last hour (My ears are still ringing as I write this blog post.)

I did a quick check of all the available exits, and prepared myself for impending Moshpit Hogpile of Doom sure to follow, but no one made a move. Suddenly, we were saved by the house music and the video of Seth Green’s show where he plays with dolls. Everyone’s eyes glazed over and were pulled to the pretty lights on the big video screen, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I might always regret not thinking to track down the person with the other drumstick and seeing if they would part with it or sell it…

Type-O Negative was next, and the intro to their show was quite rude. It started with extremely loud polka music (The Chicken Dance, in fact) which was REALLY loud. That lasted forever, and just when I thought I couldn’t stand any more, they lowered the music, and someone walked out on stage. The crowd started to cheer…

…and it was a fucking roadie. Then the lights came back up, and the loud polka music, now even

This was almost funny once, but they proceeded to repeat this joke several times.

[Note to self: Never EVER do this. Not Even Once. It is rude to the audience. The audience is why you are on stage. If you hate your audience that much, then simply don’t go on tour.]

Eventually, Type-O Negative actually came out on stage, and we once again held our ground at the edge of the mosh pit. A few times we got sucked into the swirling void of flailing bodies, (and I got punched in the nose by an underaged girl. I’m assuming it was an accident) There were plenty of other attractions and distractions in the moshpit, but mostly Type-O Negative was shiny, high-goth metallic.

After the show, Josh pointed out that Type-O Negative on stage sounded Exactly like Type-O Negative on their latest album, Dead Again, and there endeth the lesson.

Conrad Zero LogoYours Darkly,

Conrad Zero

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