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I wasn't there in the beginning, some people believe the band entered our consciousness at precisely 9:11 EDT. And I wouldn't put it past MJK and the boys. But, I wouldn't know. I was in the beer line wondering why our Aramark Representative chose to wait in line for one Miller Genuine Draft tap when another one was screaming to fill my cup(s). But, at the beginning, his first words were: "Welcome to the New World Order," sarcastic, dry and delivered in such a fashion that you can't help but imagine that Keenan's stage presence, at least in between songs, was influenced by the years of touring with satirist/comedian Bill Hicks as an opening act. Entering in dictatorial fashion, as only Maynard James Keenan can, he sent the legions of fans into fits. The tripped out beginning of "Stinkfist" raised the crowd's fists and served as a perfect appetizer for an evening with Tool. Their setlist had not varied in well over a month, maybe more, and while the crowd knew what they were getting, it still felt like a surprise. After closing Aenima's opening track, he muttered, in his usual tone, "well, thank you very much." He kept the majority of his thoughts to the lyrics. Allowing the audience to imagine a world beyond themselves or perhaps affording them an opportunity to dive inside.
Top and I walked in around :30 into "Stinkfist," quickly found our seats and got involved. The early photos were taken about two or three songs in, and they don't reflect how simple the stage appeared in the beginning. There was very little light, just enough to illuminate the major players and make you want more. There was a greyish-white hue to everything that wasn't an instrument or a human, with the backdrop holding little more than Maynard in terms of heights. On the contrary, Keenan's microphone was probably three or four feet taller than him. In those opening moments, the stage seemed to hover in a sea of black. "Stinkfist" pushed into the standout track from 10,000 Days, "The Pot." At our distance (Section 104, Row D) we could not catch all of the nuances from Justin Chancellor's roving bassline, but you could grasp enough to feel immersed. Verizon Center has yet to let us down in terms of sound quality, but it would be nearly impossible for us to taste all of the low-end flavors from where we were. No worries. Beers are quickly consumed and it starts to set in, "we are watching Tool. Again."
Tool has been on tour, with nothing more than a 26-day break (between July 9th and August 5th), since Top, Frat, JQ, PB and myself caught them at Coachella (April 30th). The beating on Maynard's vocals must be unbearable. I don't know how he does it. You simply can't go into a show hoping for "Ticks and Leeches." I would venture to guess it isn't humanly possible at this point. That said, the condition his vocals are in is mind-boggling. It makes you believe that he was put on this planet for this very reason: to perform, to communicate, to sing. The great thing about Tool, is that the same exact thing could probably be said about every member of the band. Can you name a better drummer than Danny Carey? Maybe Jon Theodore. Does anyone play guitar quite like Adam Jones? And Justin Chancellor continues to impress and his experimentation with effects on 10,000 Days might just open doors that we never thought imaginable. Together they amaze.
As the show went on, the lights became a bigger part of the experience. At first a handful of lasers reflected to points all across the arena, then a sheet of green light made visible a beautiful canopy of smoke that emanated from each side of the stage. The backdrop behind the band began to take on a life of its own as the show went on. Swirling flames, video clips (also shown throughout on the scoreboard screen), and green molecular madness ensued behind Maynard & Company. I found it hard to even focus on all of the intricacies around Maynard, because of, well, Maynard. His presence within the band is amazing and entirely unique. While he positions himself next to the drummer and behind Jones and Chancellor, so as to avoid the stereotypical image of "the frontman," he still manages to captivate. The silhouette of Keenan, knees bent, bracing, back arched, hanging on to his monstrous microphone was emblazoned in my memory. A fire swirled around him, at times highlighting the mohawk he has maintained since we first saw him at Coachella, other times reflecting off of an enormous belt buckle. Three or four songs in and Maynard was shirtless. He stayed that way, more or less, for the rest of the show. Towards the end he stood behind a keyboard, but he continued to mesmerize.
When he did speak between songs it was to further ignite an already wild crowd: "we'd like to give a shout out...to a special guest, Mr. G.W." Assaulted with boos, he replied, "yeah right, you think I'd invite that fucker?" At another point, Maynard said "Pittsburgh was louder..." The crowd explodes. Maynard giggles. "Nope, they were still louder." The crowd explodes again. "Look...I am going to give you one more chance." While I talked to the people behind us after the show, I was happy to learn that the DC show was hands-down better (they attended Philly, Pittsburgh, and DC) than both Philly and Pittsburgh (apparently something happened in Philly where a fan threw an object at Maynard thus sparking more of a "give and take" atmosphere). While Maynard verbally incited the crowd, Justin Chancellor quietly stole the show. In perhaps the best part of the evening, shortly after "10,000 Days," the band moved to the forefront of the stage and sat down, embracing, pointing, and taking it all in. Justin held up his lighter prompting the crowd to immediately light up as well. It was a magnificent spectacle to behold, and my photos barely do it justice. Before closing with "Aenima," Maynard waved goodbye, in much the same way as he said hello: "good-fucking-night."
Watching him move in his space, contained, yet explosive, perhaps on the brink of being diabolical, part villain, part master, reminds me of Blood Meridian's closing lines:
"And they are dancing, the board floor slamming under the jackboots and the fiddlers grinning hideously over their canted pieces. Towering over them is the judge and he is naked dancing, his small feet lively and quick and now in doubletime and bowing to the ladies, huge and pale and hairless, like an enormous infant. He never sleeps, he says. He says he'll never die. He bows to the fiddlers and sashays backwards and throws back his head and laughs deep in his throat and he is a great favorite, the judge. He wafts his hat and the lunar dome of his skull passes palely under the lamps and he swings about and takes possession of one of the fiddles and he pirouettes and makes a pass, two passes, dancing and fiddling at once. His feet are light an nimble. He never sleeps. He says that he will never die. He dances in light and in shadow and he is a great favorite. He never sleeps, the judge. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die." [Blood Meridian]Setlist:
"Stinkfist"
"The Pot"
"Forty Six & 2"
"Jambi"
"Schism"
"Lost Keys"
"Rosetta Stoned"
"Wings For Marie"
"10,000 Days"
"Lateralus"
"Vicarious"
"Aenema"
1 comment:
Just read your review. It was a life changing experience for me to see Tool live. I've loved their sound since I was a sophomore in High School, and I was in awe of how well they play LIVE. Otherworldly. It was a strange evening for me, I was supposed to go with my future ex-girlfriend, and time was too short to find a replacement. I went alone, with great seats. I couldn't have been happier. It was an experience that blew me away, I hardly fit into the usual TOOL crowd, but I don't stand out either. I just existed that Saturday night. But around me, across from me, walking by me, not even looking at me were people I felt a connection with. Everyone that was their for the right reason know something others don't, and are part of something not everyone can embrace (thanks be to the gods). Your column hit every emotion I felt last Saturday. Thank you for letting me relive it.
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