Friday, April 26, 2013
Steel Panther - Stage AE, April 26, 2013
Gigi and I zipped down to Stage AE last night for a "show" by a "band" named Steel Panther.
We hooked up with two longtime buddies, metalmale and marnellmale. Having secured a quad-allotment of freebies, we were all set. On his way into the venue, our buddy had this weapon of mass destruction confiscated by venue security.
When asked why he felt the need to bring it inside, he replied, "I forgot it was in my pocket."
Do not fear though. Gigi ended up securing the weapon. It will soon be reunited with its proper owner.
I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I must be getting old. Having been previously assured of the band's outright hilarity and stunning 80's musicianship, this event truly asked more questions than it answered. It was atrocious. I reached the rarely felt level of "absolute putrid disgust." I will admit one thing though. We were in the minority. Everyone else in the venue seemed to be having the time of their lives. Hooping and hollering, gesticulating and suck-it-ing...
Shades of brilliance, mirroring this...
"Saf, for cryin' out loud. The whole damn thing's a parody. It's supposed to be in poor taste. Don't you get it?" To that query I respond with the age-old, "Yeah... I get it. I get it." Who knows? Maybe I really don't get it.
The band itself was horrifically loud. Much to their collective chagrin, I could feel the distortion coursing through the veins of genitalia. It was a good 'ol fashion groin thumping.
The best part was the interactive banter. The lead singer aka "self professed vaginal inspector" would drone on endlessly about fornication. It mirrored a Rand Paul filibuster, but with costumes and profanity. There was that one shining moment where I became a believer. He surveyed the crowd and screamed, "This is a new song about fucking all night long. It's called "I'm gonna fuck you all night long."
We ended up bolting about three songs in.
We did not have a good time last night. In fact, the highlight was us breathing a sigh of relief as we exited the venue. I think this band should alter their entire agenda. Maybe rename themselves "The Steel City Panthers" and do something in the realm of softcore, loud volume, dirty talkin' pornography. Perhaps in the male revue milieu or on the Chippendales circuit.
I did snag a cool Marilyn Manson/Alice Cooper poster from above a restroom urinal. Seemed well-suited for Gigi's garage of musical paraphernalia and rustic accoutrement.
In retrospect... there were three highlights. Free parking, free tickets and the fact that we didn't get poured on during our trek back to the refurbished Honda Civic. Other than that, I have absolutely no desire further discussing this shit.
Hopefully, tonight will serve as a rebound. We're heading to Fleetwood Mac at Consol. We went last time they came to the defunct Mellon Arena. Here's the review from 2009.
As I implied, things can only improve upon last evening's debacle. Maybe a vehicular accident in which they pry us from the car with the jaws of life while we're both simultaneously chewing on tin foil and shaving our heads with a cheese grater. Dare to dream...