Kasabian at Popscene.....gratis!!

Pontiac commercials aside, I think Kasabian is one of the better new bands to come around in a while. Yes, they're a bit contrived and their lead singer needs a good kick to the nuts, but the music is undeniably catchy and danceable.

They played Slim's back in March and tore the place down, so I'm looking forward to seeing them at another club show (they're also opening for Oasis and playing BFD this summer; both shows are at Shoreline).

Kasabian plays Popscene (330 Ritch Street - off Townsend between 3rd and 4th) on June 9, and they've recently announced that the show will be FREE. This, of course, means that there will be an ungodly swarm of people lined up outside for hours vying for the 300 some tickets. I'd rather pay $20 and not have to deal with that crap, but I may do it anyway. The Slim's show was that good.

Sean, I'm thinking not.......

He's currently at 6 on the "Hot or Not" scale, but I think that's a little generous. Let's get it down to about 4 where it belongs. The disgusted look in the face of the kid checking out his ass is priceless.

Coldplay - The Fillmore, May 4, 2005

As I sat back and watched the masses riot over the few available tickets to Coldplay's gig at the Fillmore on Wednesday, I struggled to restrain myself from gloating about the fact that I had scored a pair through a fortunate personal connection. For one, I was deathly afraid of jinxing it and watching the tickets fall through. But I also felt a little guilty about going to a show when so many die hard fans willing to sell their right nut/left ovary for a chance to go were left out in the cold. Luckily, I'm pretty selfish and that guilt lasted about 2 minutes.

As the day of the show approached, it took a bit of effort to get into the proper frame of mind to appreciate what was a pretty unique opportunity. I felt like I needed to spend a good day or two listening to the Coldplay catalog to remind myself why I became drawn to the band in the first place because, while I'm still a fan, I haven't exactly been a 'practicing' fan in a little while.

My CD player had Coldplay in permanent rotation back in 2003 when 'A Rush of Blood to the Head' was released, and it killed me when I had to skip their Shoreline show that year because of a prior commitment. I marveled at the way their songs could elicit such strong emotions and the way they carved out such a distinct sound, one that played well across gender and demographic. Sure, they were a bit waily and saccharine at times, but it felt genuine.

But somewhere in the time between my discovery of the band and their ascent high into the arena rock stratosphere, I forgot about Coldplay. I began discovering other, younger, edgier bands and listening to Coldplay with increasing rarity, occasionally turning the channel when 'The Scientist' or 'Clocks' came on the radio for the 13,405th time.

Still, the madness surrounding the buzz gig helped to rekindle a lot of the old enthusiasm I had for the band. I couldn't help but get caught up in the craziness and the feeling that this was an event of some significance, or at least a pretty rare experience. If people were willing to change dirty old man diapers or hand someone the keys to their car for a chance to go, I should probably feel pretty fortunate for getting to go at face value.

Standing in the long line at the Fillmore prior to the show, there was a definite energy in the air that represented the end of a long, strange trip. Some stubborn, determined folks walked up and down the line all but begging for tickets, but with 20 minutes to go until showtime, defeat began to show on their faces. And it was at that moment I began busting out my best Nelson Muntz laugh ("HA ha!").

Inside the Fillmore, there was a mix of people slightly different than the standard rock show attendees; more yuppie-types and girls in F-me pants and fewer concert tee-wearing fanatics. With tickets going for $500 - $1,000, this wasn't overly surprising. I'm not enough of a live music purist to get really worked up about that kind of stuff, but I can imagine some of the more hardcore fans - particularly the ones who coughed up two weeks' pay for a ticket - were foaming at the mouth at the sight of some of the stuffed shirts in attendance.

The band took the stage at 9:00 to rousing but not overwhelming cheers. It was clear that the crowd was energized in anticipation of the set, but I think I had expected something a little more riotous.

They opened with 'Square One' from the new album, a nice song but not a real grabber. It took the first few crashing cymbals of 'Politik' to get the crowd going. And from there, they didn't let up.

Mixing in old and new, they stormed through a fairly brief 80-minute set. Their debut album, 'Parachutes', was the least represented of the three albums, with only a stellar 'Yellow' and a brief, endearingly flubbed version of 'Don't Panic' making the cut. The tracks from 'AROBTTH' drew the biggest reaction from the crowd, none more so than the played to death but still fantastic 'Clocks'.

They sampled heavily from the new album, playing 7 songs in all. I often need to hear new songs a few times before I can pass judgment on them, and none of the new ones played Wednesday immediately jumped out at me. The hazard of having such a clearly defined sound is that, at least upon first listen, new material tends to sound the same as the old. I wouldn't say there are any real sonic surprises among the new songs, but there are no stinkers, either. 'A Message' and 'What If', as well as 'White Shadows' from the L.A. gig in March, seem like winners.

The band sounded fantastic, despite what seemed to be a fairly muddy Fillmore system. Chris Martin's voice was strong and every bit as crisp as it is on the albums. Lead guitarist Jon Buckland was dead on with all of his solos (save for the 'Don't Panic' flub) and Will Champion's drum work shone during percussion-driven songs like 'Politik' and 'God Put A Smile Upon Your Face.'

The most indelible impression I took away from the concert was the professionalism and confidence with which the band performed. That may translate as 'boring' to some, but it shouldn't. So many bands perform as though they've just read the "Live Rockers' Handbook", with practiced poses and predictable, "I love this fucking town!"-style banter (see Bravery, The). The bands who get it realize that when the music's good, the performance speaks for itself. You don't need to light your guitar on fire or play the drums with your cock - you just need to convince the audience that you're giving them everything, that music represents more than just a way to make a living. It's a sign of musical maturity as much as anything, which is why U2 is fairly incapable of putting on a bad show at this point.

For Coldplay, the live experience begins and ends with Martin, who effortlessly exudes likability and moves around the stage with purpose, if not intensity. His gyrations (such as his human second hand during 'Clocks') can be a little out there but never feel contrived. He easily and confidently interacted with the crowd, something that many bands seem uncomfortable or unwilling to do but which adds so much to the concert experience. In an intimate setting like The Fillmore, it played particularly well as he expressed genuine gratitude for the fans' support and dealt admirably with an annoying chick who kept shouting "I love you, Chris!" and "You rock!" as though she invented the Annoying Wannabe Groupie act.

No rock show is worth $1,000, nor a prosthetic leg, nor a car, nor.....etc. But it's hard to imagine anyone left the Fillmore on Wednesday disappointed by Coldplay's performance. The crowd was treated to a rocking, intense, thoroughly enjoyable set from a band that may never again be able to play in a 1,200 seat venue without inciting a full-scale riot. The aptly named gig certainly generated its share of "buzz", but in the end it was hardly necessary. Coldplay's music speaks for itself, and loudly at that.

Here's the complete setlist:

Square One
Politik
God Put A Smile Upon Your Face
Speed of Sound
Warning Sign
Yellow
Low
The Scientist
Don't Panic (abbreviated)
Till Kingdom Come
Clocks
What If

Encore:
A Message
In My Place
Fix You

'The Onion' Party on May 13

Courtesy of CraigsList, this could be worth checking out.

The Onion Party - Friday, May 13

craigslist and INFORUM Welcome America's Finest News Source to San Francisco! WHAT: The world's most popular news satire publication is coming to the streets of San Francisco. craigslist and INFORUM invite you to celebrate in style at 12 Galaxies with bands, beer and The Onion writers (who apparently also DJ)! More than 4 million readers visit The Onion online for genius headlines like, "Supreme Court Rules Supreme Court Rules" and "Drugs Win Drug War." Get your much-needed weekly dose on street corners beginning May 12.

• 10:45 - 11:30pm: Dead Hensons
• 11:30 - 12:30am: Special Guest ONION DJs
• 12:30 - 2:00am: DJ Jester the Filipino Fist
• 2:00 - 6:00am: Staring Contest between Onion writers and craigslist staff

WHO: The Onion writers & management
WHEN: 10 p.m. Doors Open
WHERE: 12 Galaxies, 2565 Mission Street, San Francisco
HOW: Free event - No tickets or reservations necessary!

I went to Coldplay and you didn't

And I didn't even have to blow a 300lb, 35-year-old virgin to get there!

Review to follow a bit later....

Coldplay Fillmore Tickets: Spanish Fly for Losers

It didn’t take Dionne Warwick to predict that there would be an unbridled frenzy when the tickets for Coldplay's Wednesday “buzz gig” at The Fillmore went on sale last Sunday. Do the math – 1,200 seat venue...tens of thousands of fans looking for tickets…at least half of the tickets likely already spoken for before the public even had a crack at them (due to radio stations, record execs, Ticketmaster employees, Evil Geniuses, etc.). It was bound to get messy, and messy it has gotten.

As anyone who logged onto the Ticketmaster site at 10:01 AM found out, tickets sold out in roughly the time it takes that little Japanese guy to eat an all-beef frank. This left many, many, many people out in the Cold (sorry, that's terrible). But rather than causing a little natural frustration among fans who had hoped to attend a cool, intimate show, the masses have responded with uncaged fury. In thousands of posts on message boards, web sites and Craigslist, “true fans” have raged at the band, the venue and "Ticketbastard" because of perceived inequities in the ticket distribution process. Nevermind the fact that one of the biggest bands in the world playing a very small venue means that tickets will inevitably be scarcer than non-pedophiles at a ‘Star Trek’ convention - it’s a conspiracy at work!!

It’s been amazing, surreal, sad, and hilarious to witness the whole “buzz gig” saga unfold. There's been so much energy devoted to the controversy, you’d swear John and George were reincarnated for a special dual-headlining gig with Beethoven's ghost and Wyld Stallyns. Maybe a better comparison is the Golden Ticket frenzy in ‘Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory’; I’m fairly certain at least one wealthy factory owner suspended production and had all his employees hammer away at Ticketmaster’s site. At least with that, the Golden ticketholders got to frolic with exotic midgets in a twisted Candyland-on-acid setting. This is just a damn rock show by a band that, while good, ain’t exactly U2 (no matter how much they want to be).

In addition to the millions of pipe-dreaming “superfans” who are posting impassioned pleas on Craigslist for tickets to the show, there is another prominent trend developing: the burgeoning “tickets-for-love” trade market. A staggering number of posts have popped up from “decent looking, slightly overweight, sorta shy” guys (translation: replicants of Comic Book Guy from ‘The Simpsons’) offering tickets to the show to “attractive, fun girls who like to have a good time” (translation: hot sluts who will be so grateful for the CBG’s generosity that they’ll at least entertain the notion of putting out).

On the flip side, there have been countless requests for tickets by “hot, superfun chicks who like to have a good time.” Some have gone further than others with their offers, but most contain at least an implicit offer of carnal rewards. While I admire the opportunistic gall of these women, I just can’t imagine why anyone would take the bait. No matter how pathetic he is, a guy would be fucking nuts to give away a ticket to a chick just because she claims she’s “hot and fun” when he could turn around and sell it for $500-$1,000 on eBay. That’s good whorin’ money!

I don't know what it says about the state of romance when Coldplay tickets have become a substitute for balls in asking chicks out. Probably nothing, except that there are many, many guys who feel no shame in bribing girls who are presumably out of their league to go out with them.

In addition to the straightforward sleaze on Craigslist, here are some other innovative, amusing and mystifying approaches to the Coldplay ticket fiasco:

• A guy who’s using his extra ticket as a bargaining chip to get a job. You’ve got to admire the practicality and instinct in capitalizing on the frenzy of morons. I’d hire him.
• A guy offering fine wine for a ticket. The heart of rock and roll is still beating.
• People offering trades for Pixies/Tom Petty/Keane/Black Crowes/Snow Patrol/(insert other mediocre-to-crappy band here) concert tickets. Good effing luck.
• A guy (presumably in jest….although in this case, who knows) hilariously offering his prosthetic leg for a ticket.
• A person offering a ticket in return for a child who will be used to perform various forms of manual labor. Chilling to think about how many earnest responses and offers this person will get.
• A person advocating a mass protest the night of the show to stick it to Ticketmaster, Coldplay, ClearChannel, etc. Yes, the spirit of the ‘60’s is alive and well in SF.
• A woman offering a ticket to anyone who'll take care of her elderly, bed-ridden father while she's vacationing in Florida. Ah, the dignity of aging.
  
• A guy offering his 1994 Honda Accord LX for 6 tickets.
  
• I don't know how to sum this one up, but he's very thorough.
  

I'm sure the show will be a good one, but the real spectacle is going to be looking at the faces of the people filing out of the Fillmore as they come to the realization that they just dropped a grand/slept with a fatty/mortgaged their house/donated a kidney/sacrificed their dignity to attend an 80-minute rock show. That's the real show, folks, and tickets are free to all.