Midway through the band’s set during a performance of “(What’s The Story) Morning Glory”, a man who looked like he was in his 30’s rushed came out from the backstage area and knocked the lead singer to the ground. The intruder was taken care of immediately as security guards pushed him to the ground and escorted him out of the building. Shockingly, the band shed any too-cool-for-school criticism by only taking a 15-minute break and then returning to close out the show, delighting nervous fans who had witnessed the altercation.

According to police, the intruder has been charged with assault. After the show, Virgin spokespeople blamed a “security breach” for the unfortunate occurrence. The brief lapse did not really affect the excitement that anyone had to see one of the biggest bands in the world perform.

The biggest band to play this year’s Virgin Festival in Toronto, Oasis was undoubtedly the main reason that the estimated 20,000 attendees braved the early-morning rain. Fellow Brit rockers The Pigeon Detectives (whose second stage headlining act was scheduled to possibly conflict with the Oasis performance) even admitted to me that they would try and wrap their set up early to check out the weekend’s most anticipated act.

“The only pressure is to make sure we finish on time so we can go watch Oasis, ‘cause we’re big fans of theirs… we don’t want to overrun and miss them because we’re big fans of theirs,” admitted lead singer Matt Bowman.

The Pigeon Detectives were named as the “band most likely to make the jump to the stage in 2007” by NME Magazine and describe their sound as “fast-paced rock and roll,” adding that they had been looking forward to playing on one of Canada’s biggest platforms.

“We’re looking forward to playing to a big audience.”

The group’s tour is in support of their upcoming EP that will be available for download on their Web site on Tuesday, as they finish their search for a record distributor.

“I don’t think we really think about it. For us to be a British band, we have played a lot of venues and a lot of stages where a lot of big bands have played, and that’s actually a big achievement for us so we don’t really feel that pressure,” Bowman said. “We just do what we like to do.”

Guitarist Ryan Wilson piped in and admitted that it would be impossible to be bigger than their own personal idols.

“Our heroes are The Beatles and we’re never going to be bigger than The Beatles so there’s no pressure.”

We just like playing in new territories and playing to people that might not know us so we can win them over, and that’s kind of where we’re at best.”

Oasis played for over an hour and their show included both classic hits and new singles from their upcoming album, Dig Out Your Soul, which will be avaialble early next month. The groove-inducing set mesmerized all those in attendance.

Other main-stage highlights from Sunday included an inspired set from local boys Danko Jones and the unique sounds of Stereophonics. The legendary Paul Weller was the final warm-up to Gallagher brothers’ set.

In the media tent, I also ran into Evan Starkman (from MTV’s Fresh Meat and Gauntlet challenges). He was covering the show for MTV Canada.

Before The Pigeon Detectives, the TD Stage featured performances by Matt Costa, Yoav and Sons & Daughters.

The Bacardi B-Live Tent featured the biggest artist in its V-Fest history, when Moby played a DJ set to one of the biggest single-act crowds at the festival. Moby’s gig was in support of his most recent release, Last Night.

The success of the festival cannot be understated. Matt Bowman touched upon its wide appeal.

“Back home in England, V-Fest is kind of of known as the clean-and-cut Festival, so I think it’s good in terms of people who wouldn’t ordinarily come and traipse around in a field full of muddy company… it’s a good opportunity for them to get out there and if you make V-Festival your first festival, I think you’d enjoy it,” he said. “I think it might spur you on to go and check out other festivals.”

The band headlined the third installment of the Virgin Music Festival in Toronto and played a set that lasted over an hour, mixing old hits with new tunes. Frontman Dave Grohl proved that he was the evening’s best showman by teasing and taunting the crowd by jokingly mocking their singing abilities.

The set’s only real lag was an extended drum sequence, but Foo fans in attendance didn’t seem phased, especially when percussionist Drew Hester later got the opportunity to play a triangle solo. Yes, you heard me correctly… a triangle solo.

While the Foos were definitely the main draw for Saturday, there were plenty of other thrilling bands available for the estimated 20,000 fans in attendance, and Saturday’s main stage lineup also included brilliant performances from The Constantines and Against Me!

There is no doubt that the most surprising set came from synth-rock duo MGMT who rocked the crowd with their signature sound, exemplified by the hit song “Electric Feel”.

Over on the second stage, The Kooks dominated their main-event slot, preceded by an inspired performance from The Fratellis and Wintersleep.

The Virgin Music Festival is known for giving lesser known bands a proverbial voice on one of the biggest national platforms around and by introducing the Oh! Henry stage, it allowed contest-winning bands a chance to play for enthusiastic Virgin ears.

The Festival has grown tremendously from its 2006 Toronto inception when the city became the first international location to host the event. At an early morning press conference, Virgin Canada’s chief marketing officer Nathan Rosenberg said that V-Fest is one of “global expansion”, despite heavy scheduling issues for most of the media in attendance, with the city also playing host to the Toronto International Film Festival during the same weekend.

“[It] gives people an alternative to the Film Festival,” Rosenberg added.

During the same press conference, Richard Branson made yet another one of his trademark cheesy entrances, though keeping in mind the publicity stunts that he has become famous for, this one was relatively low-key. Branson interrupted Andrew Bridge’s (director of Virgin Festivals) media briefing when he waltzed in and holding a Festival ticket and asking if he was in the right spot. It was vintage Branson.

Next up?

Sunday’s docket includes the Festival’s biggest act, Oasis as well as Moby spinning at the Bacardi B-Live tent and The Pigeon Detectives on the TD Music Stage.

Hanging all of my hopes for a good evening on a DOOM performance is like getting excited for a rendezvous with a really easy girl. Sure, you hear she’s good… but she’s probably got AIDS.

I should have known better than to think that a guy in a mask wouldn’t try to cheat me out of an evening. Especially since I’ve heard that he’s been doing just that since August. According to reports from concertgoers at Rock the Bells in San Francisco, Mr. Doom either sent a masked imposter to do the show for him or he chose to lip-synch his entire set himself. Similar stories have been recounted, posted, and blogged about since that initial disappointment.

Some die-hard Doom fans still don’t believe it. They say that he’s simply changed his mask or that he’s got some kind of cordless microphone built by weeded-out space aliens that makes his voice sound exactly like it does on recordings. Others, particularly those who have attended one of these recent shows, still try to give him the benefit of the doubt. They say that maybe he’s in the clutches of addiction again, going through one of the very same dark periods that changed Zev Luv X into Doom in the first place.

…or maybe I made up all these theories so I wouldn’t have to believe it…

Even in the hyper-masculine world of hip-hop, where the macho ideals of the mainstream ethos is almost finished crushing the enlightened safe space of the underground, I am willing to admit (without the obligatory “no homo”) that Doom was one of the last rappers that I looked up to. I realize that its dangerous to submit that kind of deference to an alcoholic in a Halloween costume, but every movement must have its leaders. Granted, the movement of post-modern, lo-fi, cartoon-character rappers is not a movement with a capital “M”, but Doom does represent the last vestiges of imagination in rap music.

Many of his fans are refugees from different eras of hip-hop that all got smashed together once white America decided it would only validate scary-black-man rap.

As one of those fans, I really hoped that he would know better than to try to pull it with L.A. fans… on New Year’s f’n Eve.

Fortunately it was a stacked line-up… 2Mex, Casual, Scarub, Grouch & Eligh and Haiku D’Etat were also on the bill, but when the host would ask if the crowd was ready for Doom, the place erupted everytime. Even the fifteen or so timed he had to do it to keep the crowd hyped during the tell-tale awkard pause that preceeded Doom’s set. In some of the other reports I’d read, there was always a long delay between the last act leaving the stage and Doom taking the stage. A long delay… with no music playing…

When he finally did take the stage, it didn’t take long to notice that at the very least it wasn’t him rapping live. He spoke no words to the crowd, he kept the mic completely over his mouth the whole time, and his vocals were studio-quality in a warehouse with more than 500 people in it. Each of his four hypemen could be clearly heard projecting through their microphones. The other thing he may or may not have realized was that there was a video camera right next to his face the entire set. The close-ups from this camera were shown on two 25-foot screens. One was right behind him and the other was in the middle of the warehouse.

His jaw was clearly not moving.

This was a farce that took some enormous balls to pull off. As egocentric as this might sound, it’s one thing to pull this in Nebraska or Idaho or North Dakota. Not only is it easier to fill a room with a recorded vocal in a small club, its also not going to unilaterally destroy your fanbase in one fell swoop. Why he would come to the second-largest market, gather all of his fans and then proceed to shit on them like that amazes me.

It’s also an insult to rappers that work hard to put on shows. 2Mex ripped that night, as did Casual and Haiku D’Etat. The host even brought up KRS-One to do the countdown and rock a couple of his classics. Luckily they put on the Legends after Doom’s abortion of a set. I’ve never really been a huge Legends fan but they put on capes and saved hip-hop that night. There were a few occasions while they were doing their thing that they reminded crowd that this is how it’s supposed to be done. They started a new chant that night that re-invigorated the crowd and probably saved the venue from owing fools money:

“This is L.A., and we do not f*ck around on microphones!”

The Toronto leg of the Bacardi B-Live tour took place at the The Toronto School of Circus Arts on Nov. 3, and the location could not have been more apt as the combination of 2000 fans, three DJs and a night of unforgettable music made for an evening unlike any other.

Known as the largest spirit-sponsored music festival in the world, the Toronto stop of the 25-country free concert featured some of the top DJs in the world, including James Murphy (LCD Soundsystem, DFA), Diplo and local boy Nasty Nav.

The interesting thing about listening to DJs of this caliber is that it is almost impossible to predict or keep track of what is played or what will be played next. Each show is unique, and unlike an artist on tour that makes subtle to changes to their set list for every concert stop, Murphy, Diplo and Nasty Nav managed to keep the crowd entertained with their free-flowing jams and fast-paced dance mixes.

Combined with a spectacular lighting display, a custom Barcadi mojito bar and eclectic music throughout the night—and even some costumed attendees—the Barcadi event was unlike any other.

Perhaps the most noticeable aspect of the show was the wide range of observations that could be made by anyone that was there. Young ravers danced shoulder-to-shoulder with older fans obviously trying to recapture the feeling of partying late into the night with music to which they shouldn’t be listening. Beers were traded in for custom-made Barcardi drinks as guys still tried to buy drinks for attractive female singles (with the most receiving nothing more than a polite “thank you” for their misguided attempts). And yes, there were hot girls dancing in almost every corner of the room.

The best part was the fact that it was still easy to manoeuvre through the wide space, despite the number of people inside. While I went in expecting that securing a date with Posh Spice would be an easier task then getting to the bar, this was not the case, and drinks were just as easy to get as the good times.

What I liked most about the B-Live experience was the same thing that I appreciated at the B-Live tent during the Virgin Music Festival earlier this year—its originality. While electronic and dance music can be listened to almost everywhere, I have a hard time remembering the last time an event that even remotely resembled B-Live took place in Toronto.

Highly recommended.

The next Barcardi B-Live event takes place in Quebec on Nov. 16. More information is available here.

The Las Vegas quartet who have said that The Smashing Pumpkins were one of their musical influences easily outdid their returning muses by electrifying the crowd with new and old hits alike, and served as the final act before Billy Corgan et al took the stage.

Frontman Brandon Flowers, sporting a new “moustache,” seemed especially into the performance, belting out the last song with as much energy and gusto as the first.

This was in sharp contrast to The Smashing Pumpkins’ ho-hum performance, which clearly did not live up to the hype of the more than 25,000 fans in attendance. Despite a brilliant set-up with bright lights swirling around them, the Pumpkins’ set opened with what seemed like a game of Guitar Hero as the band basically just seemed to play instrumental riff after riff. It was almost as if they were practicing in a garage instead of in front of Toronto’s biggest music crowd of the year. Although the band started slow, slight shades of their former selves began to shine with their unique rendition of the Canadian national anthem and an uptempo version of “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”. The crowd’s pleas for “Tonight, Tonight” were finally answered midway through the performance and this finally seemed to win over festival attendees who had waited seven years to hear the band again. Although James Iha and Melissa Auf Der Maur did not participate in the reunion, new band members Jeff Schroeder and Ginger Reyes did a better-than-you’d-expect job in replacement. Jimmy Chamberlain was flawless as usual on the drums.

The festival showed remarkable improvement from its inaugural edition last year. Every act hit the stage at their allotted time (or as close to it as you could get) and the organization of each of the four stages was perfect.

In addition to the Killers, one of the weekend’s highlights was the Bacardi B-Live stage, which featured a nightclub environment, dance music and some of the top DJ’s around. This was designed as an alternative and intentional option for any non-rock fans in attendance at the Virgin Music Festival, according to Bacardi Canada group brand manager Lisa Jazwinski.

“To put ourselves at V-Fest, where we are definitely very unique from everything, we stand out from the crowd,” she said.

Jazwinski explained that there was a specific focus for the stage which featured sizzling performances from Princess Superstar (pictured above) on Saturday and Sean Miller and Dirty Vegas on Sunday as well as free samples of Bacardi’s signature mojito.

“The entire concept is having an area for the audience to experience both amazing musical talent, sensory overload (not just from the music but from visuals that are choreographed with the music) and expert cocktail mixology,” she said. “For B-Live at V-Fest, it’s all about giving the audience at V-Fest another experience that is very unique to the whole V-Fest environment.”

Other acts that played on Sunday included The Constantines on the Future Shop stage, and The Red Romance and The Postage Stamps on the Budweiser platform.

Acts that preceded Sunday’s The Killers and The Smashing Pumpkins on the main stage included Metric, Stars, Tokyo Police Club and Louis XIV. All delivered standout performances and the Festival did not seem to suffer at all from the loss of Amy Winehouse who cancelled all North American appearances earlier this summer.

The rumored rain that was supposed to arrive never really got started and just like the entire weekend, it appeared that everything happened without a hitch.

The Virgin Music Festival returns to Toronto next year.

(Pictured: Smashing Pumpkins, Princess Superstar Photo Credit: Carrie Musgrave, Bacardi)

The Virgin Music Festival returned to Canada today for its second stint at Toronto’s Island Park.

With the crowd steadily filling in as the afternoon wore on, it took almost no time at all for the park to be consumed by excited music lovers.

The show began strongly as one of the first acts on the Virgin Mobile main stage was a notable highlight. Smoothly crooning to the crowd and undoubtedly one of the best performances of the day, Paolo Nutini warmed up the festival’s early attendees, who politely applauded with their approval. The Scottish singer/songwriter’s polite response was in obvious contrast to the ruckus performances by Arctic Monkeys and Bjork which drew loud cheers.

k-os added a different feel to the festival line-up. In sharp contrast to last year’s inclusion of Gnarls Barkley, the predominantly rock-garnered throng responded loudly to the hip-hop artist’s calls for affirmation from the crowd.

As the opening acts took the main stage, there was also plenty of other music available for virtually any music fan with four musical acts playing on four different stages throughout the day. In addition to the main platform, the festival also featured the Future Shop, the Bacardi B-LIVE and the Budweiser stages.

The Future Shop stage hosted hot acts including Enter Shakiri. The English group took home four awards at the Kerrang! Magazine Music Awards including Best British Band, and Best Live Band also won the Best Album award for their independent release Take to the Skies, which went to #4 on the UK album chart.

The Bacardi B-LIVE stage included prominent disc jockeys which included DJ Dopey, Tommie Sunshine and Princess Superstar.

The Budweiser stage featured upcoming acts like Crowned King, Sybris and The Reason.

Other Future Shop stage acts included Jon Levine Band, Dragonette, The Wildbirds Voxtrot and Mute Math.

The best act of the day was undoubtedly the English act of M.I.A. (aka Maya Arulpragasam). Her unique fusion of house, electro and rap music left most of the crowd stunned.

The remarkable growth of the Festival cannot be understated. 35,000 people are expected to take in the weekend event which continues tomorrow with acts including the recently-reborn Smashing Pumpkins, The Killers, Metric, Stars and Tokyo Police Club.

New initiatives launched for the 2007 edition include Virgin Mobile’s steady and continuing commitment to a carbon-free environment. One of the main features of the environmentally-friendly plan involves costumed players standing on a green and black chessboard. Bands, celebrities and concertgoers call every move with each black piece representing the causes of global warming (oil rigs, trash and even lobbyists) and each white piece representing the actions needed to defeat the causes (solar power, recycling and bikes). The Festival also features the TRASHed Recycle Store, where attendees can trade recyclable items for prizes.

Other opening day highlights include a Dentyne kissing booth, a Calvin Klein scavenger hunt and Motorola giving fans the chance to dress up as their favorite celebrities.

Saturday’s show was headlined by a memorable performance from one of its most memorable featured artists, Björk.

More information on the Festival is available at VirginFestival.ca

(Pictured: Paolo Nutini, M.I.A., Photo Credit: Carrie Musgrave)

Last week, I got an e-mail from Jeff Fernandez asking if I would cover this concert. I had my reservations, but I also had nothing to lose, so after one call to my hip-hop aficionado friend I was in for the concert. That my favorite hip-hop act of the last decade, Black Star, was at the Chicago show (which you can read about here) only got me more excited for the show. Well, I made the right decision, and even though no Black Star was around (in Chicago but not Brooklyn? What?) this was still a great, loaded show.

First up was Joell Ortiz. My friend, Charlie, told me to take note here and he couldn’t have been more on point. Joell is a star in the making. He got the crowd warmed up with a mix of humor, a smooth flow and crowd interaction that’s hard to match. By the time he took some quick classic tracks from the likes of Biggie and Pun he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. He closed with “Hip-Hop” and spent the rest of the day enjoying the show and chatting with fans.

Joell on what it was like take hip-hop back to its roots with his style: He’s flattered with the comparison, but he’s just trying to make the kind of music he enjoyed coming up. It’s great to hear, but he’s not brining anything back, just making the kind of music he loves.

After this came Cham, who wasn’t bad, but mostly kept the crowd going. After he set up the crowd with “I want to try something out” he did a solo version of his hit with MIMS, “This Is Why I’m Hot”. You could hear the anticipation in the crowd, but nothing came of it.

Cham says that he appreciates the love, but he’s going to get with a group to get new notoriety. Keep a look out for the new group.

The next surprise made up for anything and everything that MIMS could have. On the set times we were promised a “live” mix-tape. Maybe because of my unfamiliarity, but I thought that meant we were just going to get a live airing of J. Period’s DJ set. Nope. We got a “live” mix-tape recording from Smiff ‘N’ Wessun, Buckshot, Masta Ace, O.C., and finished with Special Ed’s classic “I got it Made.” Yeah, it’s as great as it sounds. And I was worried about not liking new hip-hop. Between realizing Joell was a star and this, my day had to be a success.

The concert continued with great performances by Clipse, Large Professor and Brand Nubian, but nothing made me happier than seeing the LOX again. I followed the LOX from when they were first signed, growing up between the Bronx and White Plains, Charlie actually saved J-Hood’s life once, but he wasn’t there. The LOX tore it down, just like expected and don’t seem to have lost a thing in the years since I followed them years before.

Closing the show was LL Cool J who was given a cart straight to the stage. You can see why he’s so big; he just carries a different energy with him, especially with the ladies.

I’m happy I got to check this out and want to thank both Zune and Jeff for setting this up. The food from The Soul Spot in Brooklyn was great and free Jack Daniels and Absolut are always appreciated. Great experience again and thanks for the hook up.

Rating:

It’d been a while since I’d last seen a hip-hop show in Chicago. Yes, I was able to check out Open Mike Eagle’s crew back in May while in L.A., but the last time I paid to see a hip-hop show at home was back in 2002, when I saw Del The Funkee Homosapien. I have no explanation for the drought, but I’d kind of missed it, honestly.

Then, last week, one of the promotional firms with which this site does business let me know about an upcoming event in Chicago the upcoming weekend. Apparently, Microsoft has set up its own urban-based concert series in order to promote the new Zune mp3 player. As the press release states:

Zune worked with artists directly, to give back to the cultural core consumer and connecting Zune with that core by giving them the opportunity to participate in the Zune mantra, which is to support Art, Music and Film in the digital space with technology and innovation. Consider these shows as rewards to those who have come to support the digital platform. By bringing music back to the community parks, they’re also a thank you to those individuals in the cities who have come to support the local and national Art, Music and Film community. It’s a nod to a time when this music was about community; community support and community interaction. The idea is to re-create that energy with the ultimate park jam experience.

Interesting, I thought. The Los Angeles leg of the concert series included UGK, E-40, Collie Budz and Common, and if that had been the lineup here I may not have been so inclined to go (I’m not going to drive an hour and spend another hour to find street parking just to see Common), but the organizers set up a much better roster for the Chicago show. While Common would have probably been a bit more logical for Chicago, they made up for it by calling in Mos Def, Bilal, Little Brother and Qualo (see, Mathan, you should have moved out here). Ergo, I decided that there would be no better time than the present to put the kibosh on my hip-hop show drought.

While the obvious choice for a venue would have been Grant Park (which is hosting Lollapalooza), the folks at Zune decided to make it a bit cozier, setting up shop at the historically racially integrated Union Park—well-known for hosting numerous cultural and social events including art exhibits and concerts—in the West Loop. They then enlisted Chicago’s own Robinson’s No.1 Ribs to set up a grilling Xanadu with a plethora of offerings including pork ribs, beef ribs, fried chicken, barbecue chicken, hot links and turkey wings. I was in pizzaface paradise.

While I was getting there just as Little Brother was finishing up their set (that’s that bullshit that is finding parking in the area), I was told by other concertgoers that their set was very good, even without 9th Wonder. Unfortunately, the check-in process prevented me from seeing much of their set, but what I did see was pretty damn good. I followed up that performance with a visit to the barbecue tent, and partook in some complimentary Red Bull as well. VIP kicks ass.

Bilal was up next, and boy does he need to release that Love for Sale album soon. That man can sing better that 95% of people who currently hold record contracts. He could be (and should be) bigger than Kelly Clarkson and Justin Timberlake combined. It’s apparent that this man truly feels the music that exudes from his vocal cords, as he almost seems in a trance while singing. He sang fan favorite “Soul Sista” as well as a lot of material from that in-limbo album. I was later able to speak with him for a few minutes:

Re the status of the Soulquarians (on which there are conflicting reports from Common and ?uestlove), Bilal does still talk to most of them, though the untimely passing of J. Dilla last year did serve to make any future projects much more questionable. Asked whether or not we’d be seeing any upcoming album produced by the group, he told me that he honestly didn’t know.

Re the release of Love for Sale, he said that he is determined for it to see the light of day eventually, though it won’t happen until Universal [Records] gives him back his master tapes. He really is disappointed that it’s been such a difficult process to get the material out, because he’s really proud of it, as the music is very organic and reflects his inner soul very much.

I was also going to try and ask him a few more questions, including what he thinks 50 Cent looks like, though I was cut off after a few minutes. Thanks to the people at Zune, though, for letting me have the opportunity.

The “special guests” were next, and they were Talib Kweli (as I had discovered on the itinerary upon check-in) along with Jean Grae (not included on the itinerary and a nice surprise). Yes, folks, that’s right, Talib Kweli and Mos Def would be performing together for the first time since I’m not sure but who cares because I get to see it. Talib Kweli did some fan favorites (including “Move Somethin’” off of the Reflection Eternal album), as well as a track sampling “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” that really got the crowd riled up. The crowd was really into this show, and the turnout was great. It’s really good to see people excited about rap music that doesn’t suck. Jean Grae tore it up lyrically as well, though I was expecting to see a bit more energy from her.

Mos Def came onstage unannounced near the end of Kweli’s set to a HUGE POP, and Black Star was reunited just like that. They did some tracks off of Mos Def and Talib Kweli Are Black Star, including “Definition”, and some material I’d never heard before. Could a new album be on the horizon? Probably not, but a man can dream. I was also pleased by random rapping over the beats for “The Message” and “Don’t Stop the Rock”, respectively. They put on an excellent show with great energy to close out an afternoon full of musical goodness.

The energy and people at this show were great. There was also free beer and vegetables in the VIP tent. While I did not seize the advantage to eat some celery, I did have a few bottles of Stella Artois. The best T-shirts I saw all afternoon were one that said, “De La City” (in the same font from the cover of Stakes Is High); one that said, “I AM NOT THE FATHER” (a nice little nod to Maury) worn by one of the guys from Qualo; and one that said, “J DILLA CHANGED MY LIFE”. Also, I got a compliment from Bilal for my shirt (which bears this this image with the heads switched). Also seen in the area were Chicago emcee Psalm One and former Chicago Bears defensive back Jerry Azumah (though not together) as well as numerous hot women. Numerous.

Rating:

Still, the Wrigleyville bar strip was pretty packed, with the idiots spilling out into the street like it was Mardi Gras, and it took longer than expected to get from Belmont to Addison. Combined with the Dan Ryan being jacked up worse than Shane MacGowan’s teeth, and I ended up getting there too late to see Brand New Sin. This was mildly disappointing, as I’d liked their latest album, and was sort of looking forward to it, though it wasn’t that much of a let-down.

Swiss heavy metal legends Celtic Frost were just starting their set as I got there, and while a veritable “who’s who” of metal bands (and Nirvana) cite this band as a major influence, the performance wasn’t nearly as exciting as I’d expected it to be. Perhaps it was the fact that it was very stripped-down metal, while I tend to like my metal with at least a little cream and sugar. Tom Gabriel Fisher did his obligatory chanting-in-German-to-sound-more-evil thing, and it seemed to work. For all anyone knew he was talking about how good the kebab was at Wrigleyville Dogs, but in all fairness, it is a pretty damn good kebab. There was no encore, and I wasn’t really that disappointed, as I found the whole performance to be a little boring. It was good for what it was, but yeah… if you’re ever in Wrigleyville, get that kebab.

After about a 30-minute wait, Peter Steele and Co. finally sauntered out. Josh Silver was the first one out, and my, does he have some hardcore goatee action going on there, though he’s not dying it like his head, so it looks a bit odd. Still very metal, though. Showing that he’s as much of a jokester as he is hard-working musician, Steele came out with a whole bottle of wine, dousing the crowd while shouting, “The power of Christ compels you!” They then went into a medley anchored by the always delightful “We Hate Everyone”, with “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” thrown in to remind us how much they love the damned Beatles.

“Halloween in Heaven”, off of the new album, Dead Again, was dedicated to Dimebag Darrell, while many other songs from the album followed. I’ve not yet heard it, but considering that I didn’t recognize some of the songs, I assume they were from that album. Somewhere during the set, Steele tripped over a cord and fell down behind Silver, who, along with the sound guy, helped him up, and showing how much he kicks ass, he seamlessly kept with the song, even playing the chords as he was lying on the ground. He later made some sort of self-depracating remark about hitting his head pretty good, which, along with two large lit-up signs that said “BOO” and “YOU SUCK” typified the band’s sense of humor; also seen when he shouted, “Chicago is better than Brooklyn because you actually speak English.” Ouch. Actually, Pete, it depends on where in Chicago you go. I wouldn’t say that over on 26th Street, as it’s not only inaccurate, but it might get you stabbed.

It’s been a great deal of time since I’ve been to an all-ages show, and after this one, I remember why. Dan Kozuh touched on this in his Shins concert review, and while this show was thankfully devoid of hipsters and scenesters dressed up like it was Halloween, I did take issue with some high school girls next to me. If they weren’t high school girls, they should be ashamed of themselves for acted like it. I didn’t really have a big problem with the two girls up until “Hey Pete”, when their friend came along. Yes, they were taking pictures and texting them to their friends during the entire show, but what really irked me was when the friend showed up. She was probably about my height (I am a typical short Mexican, though taller than most at 5′7″), and for whatever reason, she thought it would be a good idea to stand directly in front of me. It didn’t help that she had a giant coif of fried blue hair, but she also decided that ithat was a good time to catch up with her friends, whom she obviously hadn’t seen in a while. I assumed this since they were talking back and forth for the better part of ten minutes. Memo to everyone who does this: Don’t. Talk about your new MySpace wallpaper before or after the show, but not during the show, and not right in front of me. Some of us came for the band. This is a really good way to get a five-dollar beer poured on one’s pants. Yes, it was sort of sad to have to sacrifice my beer, but a five-dollar beer takes a back seat to a 25-dollar concert. As expected, my plan worked, and they spent the remainder of the show talking far enough away from me that it wasn’t too aggravating.

The first encore included the always fantastic “Christian Woman”, while a second encore gave us the 10+-minute opus, “Black No. 1″, which sent the crowd home happy. “Black No. 1″ has come to be known as Type O’s “Freebird”, though I don’t know if Ronnie Van Zandt ever busted his ass as much as Steele does. I would have liked to hear “Everyone I Love Is Dead”, “Kill All the White People” and “Summer Breeze/Set Me on Fire”, but I wasn’t really complaining.

Type O Negative have shown that you don’t need the mainstream media to be wildly successful, instead giving us a solid workrate, fan appreciation (as evidenced in Steele’s statement: “We do all of this for you guys, because you guys pay our f*cking bills.”) consistently great music and a great sense of humor. This is what a rock band should be. I really did have the time of my life, and no, I’d never felt like this before. Oh, I swear, it’s the truth, and I owe it all to Type O Negative.

Rating:

Type O Negative

Celtic Frost

Brand New Sin
N/A

The Shins played Chicago’s Congress Theater on the edge of the gentrified Wicker Park/Bucktown area. The Congress is an antique venue with a vast, open foyer and grand domed ballroom. It has fallen into massive disrepair, apparently the Luchador wrestling competitions and roller-derby shows are not bringing in the revenue to warrant a restoration. It is hard not to get carried away when you enter the theater. One feels the decaying silhouettes of the people that walked these halls in the twenties still linger about. Which makes the rest of my experience all the more painful to document.

Thanks to their contemporary cultural success every rude, mouth breathing, unisex eye-linered, spoiled, chic Jezebel and Solomon showed up, like a roving gang of Ipod commercial dancers. The Shins came on stage and one would have thought Lindsay Lohan had arrived at a nightclub. Countless cell phones and cameras shot into the air and snapped distant, nebulous photos. It didn’t stop for the entire show. People desperate for photographic evidence that they were, in fact, at this concert blocked views and pushed their way to get a clearer 1 pixel shot on their Razor. Apparently, their friends and MySpace buddies don’t accept a single word from these people’s mouths unless backed by a still photo of James Mercer from two hundred yards away.

When “New Slang” was let out of the bag the cameras went batty, as though everyone had waited all week to take a picture of that song. The goober next to me was recording fifteen-second video clips into his phone during every song. Have you ever heard a song recorded on the microphone of a cell phone played back through the speaker of a cell phone? It’s complete digital static, like an Internet predator sending you filthy vlogs. Cell phones and cameras should be banned from concerts; perhaps under a counterfeit law of copyright, but in actuality to stop the annoying beeps and flashes from distracting the fans that are actually there to experience the music. And now those digital cameras have three flashes leading up to the final culminating flash. The morons pressed a button and the room was washed in red-eye removal flashes, the filler lights, and then the face-finder beams. I was desperate to find flannel in the crowd, that soothing cloth wrapped around a person who understands and practices the principles of the courteous concertgoer. Sure, most of those people stand, arms wrapped coldly around their bodies, eyebrows furrowed deep into the crest of their nose, perhaps nodding their heads, slightly acting as though they weren’t enjoying themselves—but at least they were not the twits next to me who wouldn’t shut up about how they snuck a beer into the show.

When my peripherals weren’t lured from the stage at the notice of a beaming blue cell phone screen, my ears were being eaten away by the tiny mice of conversation in every direction. Not between songs, or a quick salutation when friends arrived, full conversations and detailed diaries regarding the lives of the people around me. Who pays that much money to catch up with friends? People got mad when songs they didn’t know were played and the girl in front of me was writhing in the air to a song that you just can’t dance to, as though the lyrics to “Phantom Lib” pulled a deep sexual repression from the recesses of her adolescent existence. Only a small percentage of the crowd was watching the stage and perhaps that is why I felt The Shins phoned it in.

Sure, they played their songs, they sounded just like the album, and they said the word “Chicago” enough assure us they knew where they were, but there was just no energy. It is the symbiotic relationship the band has with an audience that makes a live show so great. You get what you put in and this crowd wasn’t giving them anything. People were yelling “Freebird” after the first song… apparently not quite grasping the theory of when exactly to yell the request for “Freebird”. My eyes were rolling hard to the top of my skull and my lip was snarling at those around me. I looked like a possessed Mennonite towards the end of a powerful exorcism.

They opened slowly with “Sleeping Lessons”, the first track off the new album, and suddenly a giant curtain drops behind them to reveal, in one of the most anti-climatic moments of my life… their album cover. It just seemed to plateau from there. The simple, platonic pop-rock was not meant to fill a theater the size and power of The Congress. Their song choices were of the dreamy side of their catalogue and they slowly let the audience slip from their fingers. Not that anyone really would notice what with all the text messaging they had to catch up on.

We need to once again be reminiscent that the encore is a privilege, not a right. Every band expects to play an encore, and that shouldn’t be so. The Shins did not, in fact, rock my socks enough to warrant hearing them play again but the house lights didn’t even pretend to come up. The audience has to want it, not the band. Good thing they did play again because they turned it to 11, playing “So Says I”, and finally filling the quasi-arena with it first gasp of energy it had felt all night.

I left that night with bad vibrations all around me; I wish hideous things upon my fellow man. Had art been raped in front of me that night, and was my piss-poor attitude only egging the aggressor on? Halfway through “Australia” I was inspired by my boredom; the decaying edifice around me, and the pensiveness of the song to drift into a beautifully apocalyptic revelation of concert after an EMP destroys all of the electronics in America. The concertgoers would sit humbly on pine chairs listening to the Shins play on carved instruments they made with their own slivered, bleeding hands. Bands would trek between the small tribal villages looking to inspire the besieged, pragmatic townsfolk in song. Each melody would be a hard-pressed, philosophical proclamation as leaked from the bleeding soul of the artist. When the recital was completed, the town would be so moved by the experience that they would hoist the balladeers aloft and the night would be spent diving deep into inebriated revelry and uninhibited celebration. In the cold morning light, when the natives awake to find there was still land to farm and bellies to fill, they will stop for one moment, shift their weight hard on their rake and stare with glazed eyes to the distant, unfocused hills—replenishing their calloused souls with the artist rejuvenation of the previous night.