The Metro show, 23 November, twenty-hundred aught five was no different, except that it may have had a few extra turns and drops added because of the revved up crowed that attended. We ellaitchiphiles (this is a copyrighted term, please don’t use it without permission from your mother) were packed in the venue like maggots in a bloated moose carcass. If you didn’t know the person next to you at the beginning of the show, you knew her intimately by the end of the show. Well, I did, which is why missed most of the post show fun sitting in the paddy wagon.
The show began with the unmistakable and haunting drum intro to Ultrasound. Surprisingly, it didn’t end there - they played the entire song. This song is an effective way to start the show, as it gradually transforms the audience from a group of mild mannered, sheeny-faced do-gooders into a gang of raucous rock and roll rabble rousers. Except for that one guy, but he freaked me out so I don’t want to talk about him. No, don’t bring him up again. I don’t want to talk about him. ENOUGH!
I would like to run through the entire set list with you, but I was a little tipsy and things got out of hand down in the pit and, frankly, I was having too much fun to be blog responsible. They didn’t play any Haircut 100 covers. I’m pretty sure of that. But, there were plenty of highlights - too many to depict here. Unfortunately, there were two missing lights, as well. But I shouldn’t bring them up. It was an excellent show. I don’t want to harp on the negative, so let’s move on. No, really, let’s concentrate on the positive. One of my favorite moments was when...what’s that? No, I don’t care how much you want to hear what pissed me off. No, it didn’t really piss me off - those were your words, not mine. So, maybe I was a little disappointed, it’s no big deal. No, you did not see me asking for my money back. I was merely trying to redeem an LH coupon. The guy in the street said The Metro would honor it. C’mon, did you see those outrageous Ticketmaster nazi surcharges? Can you blame me? Five bucks is five bucks. That’s a whole beer. But that’s not one of the two missing lights. Nor is it the point. Let me get back to the crazy time we all had. OK, so at one point in the show, Marty pulled out one of those human cannon ball cannons, and...what’s that? Yeah, you’re right, I’ll never be able to concentrate on this until I unburden myself. Really, it’s no big thing, and I feel like a fool for even bringing it up. But to tell you the truth, every time I see the Lovehammers perform, it always seems like Marty is singing to me directly and for me alone. And it seemed like that tonight until the end of the show when I realized they didn’t perform two of my favorite LH songs. It’s not a big deal. I’m over it now. Let’s get back to the rockin’! Then Dino turns his bass guitar inside out and shoves a giant walrus tusk...Wait! What’s with the puppy dog expression? No, you don’t need to know the songs they maliciously neglected to play, which hurt my feelings more than all the thousands of hot looking women who ever told me to get a full body, including the brain, transplant. You’re not going to let me go on until I tell you, are you? I knew it. I just knew it. You know, I’m never going to be able to write for Rolling Stone magazine with material like this. Who let you in here, anyway? OK, I see that I have no other choice. Let’s get this over with. Maybe Rolling Stone will accept the second half of this article. Here it goes. This is very hard for me to say because I know the band will be reading this, since they have nothing better to do, and they are very sensitive boys. They spit in my face and farted at me and rubbed giraffe excrement in my hair by not playing Into the Deep End and Low-life Insurance (Let’s Get Wasted). They are only two of my favorite LH tunes ever, that’s all! Into the Deep End being my numero uno fave. Are you happy now? Thanks a lot for making me relive the horror. I feel like tripe right now.
Marty refused to sign our breasts, but he
did sign Captain Break-it's ticket stub.
But, they did play Yes It Do, which is a wonderful song to listen to while enjoying a hangover, and in general, for that matter. To my knowledge it is only currently available on the DVD, but I’m guessing it will be on the new CD, since I’ve recently heard word that Leper Pop, the hot hit single for the new millennium, did not make the cut. They agreed, it is a song for the new millennium, just not this one. Not the next one, either. One of the millenniums in the ten thousands, or so. They assured me. Yes It Do made me feel happy all over. Maybe a little too happy, as evidenced by the slap the woman in front of me gave me. Clouds was another highlight. During the song, I could feel the audience meld into one giant drip of lamentation and hopeful introspection. Kind of cozy. Yet another highlight was Throw My Head. Nothing magical in particular happened during that song, I just dig it, so get off my back.
The highest light came when they performed Trees. Sure, some of you may be a little tired of that song, but that exhaustion would flee your body if you ever see it performed live. This goes for all of their songs. As good as the songs sound on their CD’s, they are ten times better live. No joke. There were two wonderful effects brought about by Trees that night. The first was the energy the audience emitted. It was awesome. Simple as that. I’m not going to fruit it up for you. Awesome. You could tell by the look on Marty’s face that he was overwhelmed with appreciation of the love from the fans. I spent most of the time watching people’s enjoyment during that song. Which leads to the second wonderful experience. As I peered up to the balcony VIP section, I spotted Mrs. Casey, Marty’s mom. She was beaming with pride. Her pride and love were gushing down over the balcony, through the mass of people below and onto the stage. And it wasn’t just for Marty. It was for all the guys in the band. She’s been with them every step of the way. I think I even got a little of it on my shoe. I’m not ashamed to say I got choked up at that point. My brother, Dr. Jellyfinger, who was standing next to me punched me because he thought I wiped snot on his shirt. It was actually a tear of joy. I didn’t mind the punch because of the elation I was feeling, and I know I could take him if I had to, and I wiped snot on him later without him knowing it. I know Mrs. Casey is proud of all of her children, she just doesn’t have a chance to beam at StivOO while he’s engineering chemicals or while Chris is brokering trucks or at the others with whatever they're doing. Maybe if they would just sell tickets. I won’t even mention the fact that LH chose not to play the blues boogie anthem version of Trees I wrote with Marty. I understood since they were filming a video of the song at the time, and they had to keep it short enough to fit in between commercials on MTV2. I’m not hurt that much.
The rest of the show rocked as well, complete with a Marty excursion to the heights of the stage. I will quickly hit some of the other moments of interest. Let’s see...at one point, Marty delivered a baby of one of the pregnant fans on stage and named her Jules, Dino found the cure for cancer (it was under his amp), Billy discovered the Grand Unification Theory uniting Relativity and Quantum Physics, and Bobby had sex with at least fourteen chicks during the drum solo. They finished us off with This Town (yes, that’s up there on my fave list, too). But wait, there’s more. Next, we were instructed to do some acting as the band feigned Ashlee Simpson and performed to a recorded version of Trees for the video. Seeing as the producer didn’t offer any cash for my acting skills, I chose to stand there like a petrified monk while the rest of the crowd cheered with uninhibited glee. I hope I make the final cut of the video.
Onto to the post show bedlam. By the end of the show, the group I was with was smattered throughout The Metro. Captain Break-it and his brother got Dino to let them into the band’s VIP room back (side) stage, where they proceeded to drink all of the free beer in the tub. StivOO and some other guys you don’t know and who choose to remain anonymous made it up to the VIP balcony. Dr. Jellyfinger and I walked around looking for the lovely and boobalicious ladies that are Snarkgasm (and we were looking for our group, too). Although we were unsuccessful, we did steal a lot of beer from the non-Snarkgasm women. Eventually, Dr. J and I made it to the band’s VIP room to meet up with the Captain. Dino let us in, as well. He is the friendliest Lovehammer. StivOO was there, too, talking to his cousin. By then, the free beer was gone, so I stood around and sweated a bit and then we left. We gained passage to the upstairs fan VIP balcony. Guess what? That’s right. More free beer. Marty was up there. As he navigated the room, you could see the eyes of every chick follow him as if he was a three legged zebra and they were three-legged zebra hunters armed with lipstick, gushy praise and hopes of marriage. I talked to him briefly, as in "Hey Marty" - "Hey Moist". Maybe we hugged, I don’t remember. Maybe it was me and Dr. Jellyfinger who hugged and he wiped snot on my shoulder. I was pretty free-beered up by then. Marty was overrun. Everybody had something "important" to say to him. I would have started throwing elbows, if I were him. He was gracious to everybody.
After Captain Break-it spilled my free beer for the third time, he, his brother, Dr. Jellyfinger, StivOO, and I decided to head next door to the Ginger Man. There we commandeered a table close to the front door. Captain Break-it treated us to a round of double Jack ‘n Cokes. I’m not sure what went on there. I guess we drank. I remember buying two more rounds. On the way back from retrieving my second round, I found Marty sitting in my chair. "That’s my seat, ASSHOLE!" I politely asked him to move. But, I let him sit there and pulled up another chair. Actually, after I put the drinks down, I fell over the table and landed at the feet of the bouncer. He was nice enough to deposit me in a chair next to Marty who was catching up with StivOO. I didn’t talk to Marty much, but I do remember a snippet. Here is an exclusive interview:
Moist Rub: Have you read the blog.
Marty: No, I’m sorry, I really haven’t had much time.
Moist Rub: Good, don’t.
Marty: Please stop rubbing snot on me.
Dr. Jellyfinger: Do you want me to punch him?
There you have it. Somehow, we got home.
From the first beat of Ultrasound through the rest of the night, one thought remained in my head: I am sure glad he didn't win.