Then I showed her how to run the sound for the evening, and rushed off to Club Barcelona to see ICP with Melanie. My symptoms had abated to the point that they weren't really too noticeable (Actually, they're worse today. I have that partial laryngitis that shows up just before everything clears up).
We were both kind of late, but Mel still found a place to park, so we met up there, then walked to the club.
I've never seen that many people in black&white clown makeup.
The concert was a lot of fun. We knew we were in for something when we got in the main room, and it was completely sheathed in plastic.
We managed to find a place that looked safe about halfway back from the stage. Unfortunately, when the next act came on (Wolfpac, who supplemented their music very nicely with three go-go dancers), the moshing started right in front of us. As we - and several people around us - tried backing up to avoid it, we started to realize that we'd be up against the back wall before too long.
So we moved to a much closer place on the side, next to a safe-looking pillar. The next group (Subnoize Soljas, a true tribute to illiteracy in modern band naming) were, well, OK.
After that was Boondox, who's a direct protegé of Psychopathic Records, and appears to be mostly a cheap imitation of ICP. He was fairly good, but a little, well, derivative.
I should mention that there was about a 20 minute break between sets, mostly, apparently, as security tried to figure out how to block off the spot people were using to jump back off the stage and crowd-surf. They finally got it right about midnight, when, well...
ICP came on. That, of course, was the experience of the evening. Not, necessarily, because they're good - though I personally enjoy them - but because of the reaction of the crowd. It initially started surging, which didn't die down for maybe 15 minutes, as we all got swept up, down, back, and forth. A fun ride, to tell the truth. Mel and I were laughing, anyway.
Then there was simply the fact that every one of them knew every lyric. The crowd (including myself, for the ones I remembered) did the chorus for every song.
And then, there was the Faygo root beer. I'd heard they had a habit of spraying the crowd with the stuff, but not that they used that much. I swear a new bottle came out every 5 seconds, was sprayed into the crowd, then launched. Occasionally they were launched without emptying, so one needed to keep one's eyes on the stage.
Mel and I were far enough back to be missed by all this. At least until they brought out the spray pumps (Hand pumps, but man, did they have range).
Well, that and the finale, when every member of every band came on stage, and loosed a barrage of root beer on the audience. I got clipped by a full bottle at that point.
I don't know how this sounds reading it, but it was, in fact, one hell of a lot of fun. We both had a great time, even if we did have to squish our way out of a room a quarter inch deep in root beer. When we got back to our cars, I noticed that the more experienced ICP fans had kept a change of clothing for the drive home.
After that, I dropped by the bar, and spent a little time talking with James (No, not that James, the other one. I really need to learn his last name). He's trying to recreate the mailing list, among other things. After some damage control discussion, I headed home in order to NyQuil and crash.
Today has, of course, been relatively low key. I gave mena_kissesoh1 a ride to and from a court date, bought the aforementioned clamp, dealt some with a supplier RMA issue, and have dug up a few people's phone numbers for Paula.
After a bit more of that, I'm going to rouse timenchanter, grab some dinner, then head over to the bar. It'll be interesting to find out how much voice I have left by the end of the night...