Many of you know Andrea, Stephanie and I attended the Violent Femmes show last night. Not just a show. A 25th Anniversary Tour. Completely sold out. Sardine-packed fans of middle-aged beer bellies, male pattern baldness, and even a mullet — on a female, no less!
The show was classic, not just for the incredibly simple rhymes and three-part music we all remember from the 80s and 90s, but for the spectacular crowd. I've never been to a show where, for the entire two hours of play time, you could hear the crowd singing just as loud as the band. It's what I imagine heaven sounds like, without references to burying your loved ones in a deep black well or asking for just one f*ck.
I learned a few things last night — a few things I'd like to share since most of us are Femmes fans from way back when. So join me on my journey, won't you? I discovered that ...
- I was a minority because I didn't know every single lyric to every single song. Our Guinness-shirted, ski-capped friend was practically traumatized because none of us knew which one "Country Death Song" specifically was until we actually heard it. He gave us a booster by saying, "If you see me convulsing on the ground, that's the song." OK.
- It's ok to dance like the devil and the Holy Spirit are warring within you ... because everyone else is possessed, too.
- It's ok for heterosexual men to sing, "Why can't I get just one kiss?" to each other and not be considered homosexual.
- Strange men shimmying down a "pole" (in this instance, I was the "pole") is acceptable behavior because you're so caught up in the Add-It-Up moment. It was ... horridly amusing.
- The Maggie Gyllenhaal look-alike made an inappropriate toast that was somehow considered funny because we were at a Femmes show! "To getting drunk and hopefully molested!"
- Andrea's a really good dancer. And not in a possessed sort of way ...
- Andrea has an uncanny ability to get everyone around her talking. She acquired a wingman, the drunken Michelle, who was determined to get five men to buy her a birthday drink. Didn't matter that Andrea kept saying she didn't find them attractive. Michelle was on a mission.
- Apparently Michelle and I are going to Memphis together this weekend. At least, that's what she shouted to our crowd neighbors. That was right before the show started, and right before she almost got into a brawl with someone. Security talked to her and calmed her down, though. Whew.
- Inexplicably, mosh pits — actual, mean mosh pits — form at crucial points, like when "Black Girls" comes on.
- Crowd surfing also begins, though you don't have far to go before you're in the hands of a bouncer. This WAS at the corporatized House of Blues, after all ...
- It's rather endearing when the previously mentioned Guinness Ski Cap Man would predict the next song, then throw out the disclaimer that he has no control over what his body does if that song actually is played. He was definitely a flailer. A good one, though — considerate not to accidentally beat his neighbor with his limbs.
- It's not cool, Stephanie, to tell a rotundish drunk man in his mid-40s that your friend is a bigger party animal than you are, simply to deflect him. Good thing I was holding water while you were holding a beer. He knows what he saw, Stephanie. Or should I say, Paris Hilton ...
- It makes complete sense to keep giving all manner of "fives" — high fives, low fives, uncategorized fives — to a strange guy for no apparent reason except we're at a Femmes show. Between me and Stephanie, we had to have handed out 20 of those blasted fives.
Ah, the Femmes. Doesn't matter that it was all potbellies and middle aged adults reclaiming their youth for a few hot minutes. These people haven't forgotten what a good time is. Oh no, no way ... : )
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