sold out shows here in the Dietroit this week
The story goes something like this:
Many moons ago that other guy from
The Jesus Chainsaw Massacre asked if we
ever had a chance to cover a Lady Gaga show
would we consider sending him to write about
and interview her - I was like....
("are you fucking kidding me??")
1st of all - nothing personal but I am not a fan of the Lady Gaga "scene" although she does write her own music and a lot for others as well....that being said I think she and her management are doing every thing right because she has become bigger than life...really the next and new and improved Madonna....my point to this "blog type rant" is that when the cards were dealt and the opportunity came up that we could send a writer to cover the show I was not going to be sitting at Cobo Arena myself so I remembered that good ol' Bryan Metro was keen to hook that shit up and sent him out press credential to review the show on special assignment for MCB
In particular we need to thank the boys from Semi Precious Weapons who opened the show with from what I was told was a breakout set that was way to short. They took care of the MCB and came through for us with the press cred. When you do good work good things come back to you and we ran a contest and covered the SPW show at Magic Stick a while back and they showed how appreciative they were with solid hookup.
Now on to Bryan Metro's Lady Gaga/Semi Precious Weapons Detroit Show Review - MCB
"There’s a city in my mind, come along and take that ride and it’s alright. And it’s alright.”
I’m flying down I-96 at 100 mph and I’m screaming with, at, the radio, neither of my hands on the wheel of my royal blue rent a car and they are outstretched, with my palms facing up, gesturing a gesture I don’t recognize at the Detroit skyline as it approaches me, my spit covering the windshield because I am thrusting the words at it and my phone keeps ringing but I don’t answer it because I am on my way to Joe Louis Arena to cover the Lady Gaga -SPW show in the city tonight.
It is Tuesday.
I arrive at the will call area to collect my press pass and ticket as the sun is setting (After handing a horrendous looking bum a folded bill, a fake dollar, with the words “I’ll see you in hell” written on it in red). After a very swift two hours, I receive my credentials and choose to enter via the regular, common people, entrance because I wanted to see the crowd before anything else. I was on my third Xanax by this time, not including licking the residue off of the cap at will call while leering at everyone. I have my notebook full of questions for a sister project I will also be working on interviewing the eclectic crowd members. I abandoned this project almost immediately because I heard the first band go on.
I was actually impressed by Semi Precious Weapons out of New York City (my home away from home), even though live music stresses me out. I spoke with an associate, Damien Ross, the next day who described the scene perfectly;
“I had arrived with my wife as the lead singer was lying on his back pulling his pants back on.”
I read somewhere that they were like a marriage of the Sex Pistols and T Rex, maybe, but I immediately recalled a harder rocking Hedwig from Hedwig and the Angry Inch with a dash of the New York Dolls.
What I loved the most is how the front man, Justin Tranter, taunted the crowd, something I can appreciate. The lady behind me muttered, “He’s treating those kids out there like shit.”
Spare me.
The music itself was very solid, a great homage to glam and punk without falling into the modern day pitfalls of pop punk which is pretty fucking terrible. I loved that they pushed the envelope instead of playing it safe. My two favorite moments were when Tranter shouted “Get your tits out” over and over to a very borderline crowd of girls up front and when one heifer obliged, he started yelling “Her tits are massive! Those tits are massive!”
Then he proceeded to pour bottles of champagne into the mouths of the kids up front, also of discernible age. I was sold.
Jason Derulo, or somebody close to that, followed and he, they, played a song that I recognized and there were a lot of shirtless men dancing around and I didn’t see anyone actually singing, even though everyone had mics, and, even though, it was still better and more fun than sitting through an 800 Beloved Halloween show, I went out to the concourse to work on my interview project and it was a success. At one point, I was in hysterics, falling over garbage cans, saying things like “Jesus, tights are in,” and “I haven’t seen this many underage girls and homosexuals since private school.” I made my way through the invisible people, back to my seat in time to watch everyone dancing to a block of Michael Jackson songs. Two hot girls behind me asked what I was working on and, though I wanted to say “My will,” I said “A review.”
They introduced themselves as Alexandra and Brady and I made sure that they got my card and ...
I made a point to tell them that, before the show, my sources informed me that Lady Gaga was in Royal Oak at the famous Noir Leather for a top secret photo shoot by Vogue Magazine contributor Craig McDean exclusively for Interview Magazine with the badass style team consisting of Dave Krieger along with Lisa, Chantelle, and Kristi of the Noir Style Team.
One can imagine what the outfits would consist of, and I took a few minutes to consider this. Based on this bit of info, I probably could have pulled one of these girls, or maybe both, but I turned back because the lights went out and one of them played with my hair the entire time and they really need to call the number on my card and Lady Gaga took the stage behind a giant screen, a neon blue grid, and basically looked to be in Tron 2.0 and I downed the rest of my Xanax because I couldn’t deal with….
Lady Gaga opened with “Dance in the Dark” on what is pretty much the greatest stage set up that I have ever seen; layered, 3D-esque, with screens risers, Xanax, and dancers. She followed with “Just Dance”, performing in a cube, maybe. At this point, I wrote “stage with a stage” in my notebook (Why?). “LoveGame” followed, with a video screen showing someone throwing up all over Gaga which caused me to start bellowing, “This is totally a Renaissance Fair for the bisexual crowd,” for no real reason at all. Seriously, it was Jean Paul Gaultier does Aliens with makeup courtesy of “Blonde Ambition” era Madonna. At this point, I turned to my left and saw a man whose face looked like it had been cut in half with a knife and I joined in with a group of kids laughing at him.
Before the next song, Gaga took the mic and stated that she has a
“huge crotch”
and that she heard there are
“pretty big cocks in Detroit.”
I turned around to see a wave of parents rushing to take their children out of the arena.
“This is great,” I mutter to myself as the last of the Xanax kicks in and I start to slide. Popular favorites “Alejandro,” “Monster,” and my personal favorite, “Teeth” followed. After doing my 1980’s white boy dance for the latter song, I was spent and I started to leave, but not really. The costumes and set seemed to change with every song with little to zero downtime. She played “Speechless” and “Poker Face” solo on the piano, a Tim Burton special. She reprised the radio version of “Poker Face” later and closed the main set with “Paparazzi”. Of course, the encore closed with “Bad Romance” and then I got the hell out of there. Jogging through the concourse, I saw someone get hit so hard in the face that they slid six feet.
My camera was dead at this point, so I just tossed some change at him and kept running, whooping and hollering, pretending that I was an eagle.
Once safely outside, I passed a girl sitting by herself on the Joe Louis steps. She asked me for a ciggy but I told her that I don’t smoke, but offered her a Xanax (I was actually out by then).
“Oh my god, I would totally give you a blowjob right here, right now, for some Xanax,” she shouts.
“Nice try you narc,” I hiss at her and think to myself,
“Yeah, this is my city!”
-Bryan Metro JCM
