Now that you know, I might as well talk a little bit about what else I saw:
Tim & Eric @ the Queen of the Valley Tent
Oh my god. Dudes were wearing full-body suits with humongous genitalia, dancing around, talking about how their gonna bang their sisters. Perfect! How did I miss their existence?
Kool Keith @ the Bullet Stage
In the dress department, Keith was rockin some kind of Muslim headdress in white, studded with rocks, while his hype-men had acrylic superman capes around their necks. Yeah, I didn't get it, but hey - I thought they looked pretty cool. Anyway, it was more of his "I'm a gangsta now" material than any of that space-rap Black Elvis stuff. It was groovin' though.
Not groovin: The beverage situation was just not that cool. A companion of mine's license expired, which somehow disproved her age. Went to one of the designated beer gardens to pick her something up, but you're not allowed outside! I somehow did not remember this from last year. So I sat there, sipping my two beers, listening to Kool Keith from afar.
Arctic Monkeys @ the Blue Comet Stage
Boring. Got more beer.
Gogol Bordello @ the Blue Comet Stage
Can't say I'm a fan, but I headed straight for the pit and had a ton o' fun. The singer was pouring wine on the crowd and rocking out Gypsy crazy, while the violinist was laying down some serious fire. The percussionist gave the crowd crazy eyes, dancing wild with the go-go girls. It was hot!
Not hot: Lost my remaining 3 beer tabs in the pit (of which I had 7 to start with). Security guards were no help. No more beer unless I bummed a whole wristband from someone else. Right. While I appreciate that they limit the drinking to reduce douche-baggery, this was a major fail.
My Bloody Valentine @ the Blue Comet Stage
The fact that I had to stand through this for an hour to hold my spot, in the mud from the rain the night before, losing my buzz while my back burned and my feet hurt, watching some white girl do the white girl twist to this b(l)and's wall of sonic texture noise is a hatredy. I was really wishing Dethklok would just show up and each member would be claimed by death in an instant. The guitars were too loud, the bass was even louder, the drums sounded pale and I could not hear the vocals at all, which apparently is the point? I didn't even know anyone was singing until I took a look at the big screens and saw mouths moving. The worst was their simulated ten-minute explosion at the close of the show. Why?
They said punk was not music. They said metal was not music. Totally wrong. This was not music AT ALL. It was pure torture and snide mockery towards the uninitiated. Ooh, like, you're so deep, cause like, you can't even write a melody. Lame. That one of the guitarists, Kevin Shields, is from Queens explained it (note: I hail from Queens), but it certainly did not forgive it. Look, I get it, okay? I just don't care for it. If I want noise I'll put my face in front of a fan. Thank you.
The most irritating thing is that this idiot could not comprehend why every tool fan was flipping them the bird through their whole set. Said idiot would have you believe that they compare somehow in aesthetics or intent, but don't be fooled kiddies, the only point they agree to is pretentiousness, and in kind they're split by a razor's edge. There is nothing similar about the two bands from a musical standpoint, which is the only conceit to consider. Tool appreciates poignant melody and intricate song structure that develops dynamics through subtle repetition, creating shifts in emotion from brazen to beaten, or hopeful to misanthropic, within the space of one piece. Leading me now to…
As you can see from the picture, they were set in their classic formation from the left: Adam Jones, Maynard James Keenan, Danny Carey, and Justin Chancellor, against a drowning backdrop of visuals designed by Jones. True to their modest aesthetic, no band member was remarkable, except for the fact that all of them were in white, save Keenan, who was in a dark coveralls, water in a holster, his megaphone slung over his shoulder.
Of course, despite seeming to be a shadow, Keenan was quite a show, shifting his body in hieroglyphic positions during the start of Jambi, and keeping to the band's rhythm in the same manner throughout when not vocalizing. It was a treat to see him pace in a circle as he spouted the storyline of Rosetta Stone, clasping the megaphone's wired receiver and gripping his mic stand for cleaner phrases. He even took a crack at the audience about how some should not let anyone see their flesh, then wished all a good night before Tool broke into Vicarious.
The setlist* was an interesting compendium of the more sinister and brooding side of Tool, with plenty of their signature odd time riffage, best personified by the addition of Flood, which was absolutely thrilling. I had forgotten how interesting that song is, and in hearing it then, it occurred to me how much more that tune would prove to be a blueprint for Tool's more recent work than any single they're known for. Overall, the band was incredibly controlled, delivering a frighteningly even performance that contributed to their otherworldly vibe, jamming and variating here and there just to stun that much more so. Jones' visuals completed the triad of music and performance, both thoughtful and provoking, equally an interpretation of the art of Tool's sound, as are the lyrics Keenan pens. Frank Ferrar joined the troop on Lateralus with his own drumset, laid out by stagemen in lab coats. While it was great to see the drummers take turns at each other, he did not hold a flame to Carey in my opinion.
It was a great show. All that said, there was something left to be desired after having seen Radiohead last year, whose performance and visuals will probably go down in my book as the best I've ever seen. Tool's visuals were a bit predictable and repetitive - Radiohead's in comparison seemed much more directed and particular, developing logically with each song.
A much more sour note was the reaction of some of the Tool fans who actually said that the show sucked because there was no encore. It was clear they weren't going to do one, and while Keenan ducked out, Jones, Carey and Chancellor stayed out to look over the crowd and connect for ten minutes before exiting themselves. Such a complaint is flagrant and ludicrous, and, especially these days, really fucking typical. It's gotten cliché to do an encore, and everyone knows it, so much so that bands work around the idea of an encore to play however long they really want to. The last time I saw Deftones and Lamb of God they did 4-song encores. It's just not special anymore. Encores need to end or be earned, not be expected.
*Jambi
Stinkfist
46 & 2
Schism
Rosetta Stoned
Flood
Aenema
Lateralus
Vicarious
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