Because I want to continue living in the beauty that was last night, I'll rock a blog post about the concert. The illusion will be forced off within an hour and a half, when I get to put on my hot uniform and go to work. Rest assured, this entry bracelet ain't coming off for a few days.
The MUN Students' Union, as a part of orientation, brought OLP to St. John's. The band is not currently touring, per se...they did mention being in Sydney, NS the night before, but I'm not sure what that's about. So, last night I saw what I am once again comfortable in calling my 'favourite band ever' in concert for the fourth time in nine years. Zack beat that with five times in ten years. (I say beat now, because it's unlikely I'll catch them in the next year while still on the east coast.)
Despite being an event theoretically catered to the frosh set, the band did not disappoint the people over 18 years of age. They opened with Naveed and Superman's Dead, and, for their encore, did 4 a.m., Supersatellite, and Starseed. The whole "Raine gets into the crowd and lets the audience sing most of 4 a.m." thing doesn't ever get old. The energy is fucking incredible, and if the entire crowd is going to know every fucking word to one song, I'm okay with 4 a.m. being that song.
Now for a little bitching, because it's me. Not bitching about the band - I don't think I could say anything bad about the performance. But, yeah. Holy fucking teenyboppers, Batman! Firstly, I don't understand people who pay $40-$50 for a concert ticket, only to spend the whole time competely focused on getting more beer. Secondly, why why why were there so many stupid girls wearing tit shirts, stilettos, and big purses down on the floor up by the stage? They were distracting, with their constant schtick of "ooh, take a picture of us posing like this!" You can do that at Lottie's, sweetie, and that way you don't have to risk me taking you out by kicking you in the back of the knees. Also, stupid cunts constantly weeding through the crowd - just stop, stand, and rock the fuck out. If you're that focused on your placement in relation to the stage or the bar or your ugly girlfriend, then you're not getting the experience. You all have newfuckingfangled cellphones. If you lose them, call them after the show.
I have never felt as old as I did last night. Or simply intelligent. Not sure. I went for a rock show. I think most of the people there went for something different to do on a Friday night. (Again, just go back to Lottie's.)
Despite the idiots around me (I did get in a punch for some guy elbowing me in the neck while waving furiously to his friend), it was still a goddamn wicked show. My boys haven't disappointed me yet. Also, Raine Maida has hit his attractiveness prime (and if this isn't his prime, I won't be able to handle it when it comes along). There is no part of that man I would not lick. Oh, my. Must.go.distract.self.
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