A Perfect Storm--Alter Bridge in Chicago 12/11

Stephanie Munoz, Sarah Murray and Nancy Dietrich--Guilty Party

[Note from Nancy: It is so difficult for me to write reviews of bands I absolutely adore. I immediately run out of both superlatives and adjectival expletives. I realize this points to a deficiency in my writing skills, so I labor on, hoping over time to improve this situation.]

Alter Bridge introduced their third album, ABIII, with an initial tour of Europe that lasted just over two months, from October thru the first week of December. Due to Myles Kennedy’s tour dates with Slash all summer and fall promoting the latter’s groundbreaking solo album, AB had one week in which to rehearse before leaving for the UK. One week to spend in their Orlando studio putting together a set made up of at least 1/3 new tracks, and to polish up tracks from the first two albums, One Day Remains and Blackbird. Myles had virtually no break between tours, and in fact joked about the difficulty of packing for two separate tours at the same time, Slash’s US leg and AB’s European leg. Luckily for him, black is the universal color for both bands, so I suspect that simply leaving home (Spokane) after only a short break was far harder than the actual packing.

Alter Bridge did not disappoint in the UK or mainland Europe, selling out most venues and garnering rave reviews. The album itself did not drop until late October in Europe, and November 11 in the US.

Set lists were widely available after shows. Accordingly, I programmed the list into my iPod and made a list of lyrics to go along with it. “The thing I look forward to more than anything,” says Myles Kennedy in the video tour they shot of their Orlando rehearsal studio, “is seeing the people sing it back.” Duly noted. [The video is well worth watching as it is a rare behind-the-scenes glimpse into the life of a touring musician, and Myles—and Mark—go into some detail as to the equipment they prefer to use, and why.]

Europe enjoyed roughly 15-16 songs followed by a two-song acoustic set of “Watch Over You” and “Wonderful Life” and an encore of “Isolation,” followed by a dueling guitar bit between Myles and Mark that led into “Rise Today.” They also tried out a few new songs that weren’t on the regular list such as “Coeur d’Alene” and some covers, such as “Hallelujah,” an Amsterdam staple. In Chicago, we harbored some apprehension about the set list. This show and the St. Louis show were billed as co-headliners with The Sick Puppies, which was bound to limit the play time of both bands.


Myles Kennedy--all photos by Steph

Sticking to the European set list, Alter Bridge opened with the ethereal “Slip to the Void,” the first track off of ABIII. It’s a great song to start with as it begins with low guitar and a heavy focus on Myles’ vocals. He walks out slowly in the dark, wearing a long-sleeved black tee, his trademark black jeans, and a black knit cap. He sings to the audience eyes closed, right hand resting gently on the microphone. As the song unfolds, Scott “Flip” Phillips quietly takes his place behind the drum set, bassist Brian Marshall slides in on the left, and lead guitarist Mark Tremonti—to boisterous cheers, of course—takes over the right side of the stage. The song explodes with one of Mark’s many PRS guitars, and Myles finally opens his eyes. Lights, camera, action.

Myles Kennedy and Mark Tremonti

The chemistry this band has developed over the last 7 years is instantly palpable. Smiles flash back and forth between everyone on stage, from start to finish, and it is clear to anyone that this is a group of guys that love what they do. Myles has become a master at setting up the crowd’s involvement, and has the ability to make everyone feel as though they too are on the stage with their musical heroes. This is a man who has really come into his own since Alter Bridge first took the stage in 2004. Though he has always “owned” his incredible voice, there is no question anymore that he also owns his presence on the stage. As anyone who has met him can attest, Myles is by nature a shy and soft-spoken man, possessing a great deal of humility. When he takes the stage, however, he lets his inner musician take over, and the music flows through him to the audience. Something long-time fans will also notice is that he has also finally embraced the power of his own sex appeal.

Myles grinning at the Guilty Party

Now hold on. I never promised you an unbiased review—but I am giving you an honest one. A major factor of any concert’s success or failure is the lead singer’s ability to captivate the audience and fully entertain it. Myles has a rare set of lungs, and that alone could carry his performance, but he also happens to be very physically appealing. In previous years, I felt like this was a sidebar to the performance—it was there, but he didn’t pull it out (no pun intended, I swear to all that is holy) and use it as part of the show. You can see it in the video for The Mayfield Four's "Sick and Wrong" but it is much easier to perform for a camera than a live audience, if you are shy. Myles' Alter Ego is losing its shyness.

Myles playing up to Mark's side of the crowd

I first noticed it during his off-the-hook performance with Slash in Milwaukee on 09/05/10. Normally somewhat restrained, and only milking the sexy when he got around to the Robert Johnson cover, “Traveling Riverside Blues” that he played frequently on the 2008 Blackbird tour; with Slash, Myles was unleashed. Not having a guitar to play (or hide behind) he showcased quite a few moves I had yet to see from him. Myles was dancing.

And ever since he started wearing his black clinging tees and stretch jeans that show just how much time he puts in at the gym or out running, it is clear he is finally owning his sex appeal. And I, for one, am not complaining.

Back to the show. Immediately after “Slip to the Void” the band broke into “Find the Real” which has some great shots of Mark and Brian at the outset, and annoying head shots of the photographers still in the pit. (They get to stay for 3 songs.) Great shots of Myles working the crowd (including Sarah), and some loud screams from both my sister and I, which would be reduced to whispers (for me, anyway) within a day or two. I am SO sorry you can hear me singing. Love seeing how much Myles enjoys hearing the crowd sing. ("Makes my work easier," he joked in an interview recently.)

Singing with the crowd

I am terrible at remembering set lists or hanging onto a notepad but this one located on setlist.fm looks correct to me:

Slip to the Void
Find the Real
Before Tomorrow Comes and start of
Brand New Start
White Knuckles
Metalingus—sits down
Ghosts of Days Gone By
Broken Wings
Ties That Bind
I Know It Hurts and
Come To Life
Blackbird
Open Your Eyes
Encore:
Isolation
Dueling guitars and Rise Today

[All videos by Stephanie Munoz]

So we did miss the acoustic bit. No “Watch Over You,” no “Wonderful Life.” Some tears were shed. The set was played fast and ran about 75 minutes. During the first few songs, it was also clear that Myles was having difficulty hearing himself (or his instrument?) and gestured to his earpiece in his technician Wookie’s direction several times. It was nothing that was discernable to me. There did seem to be some trouble with Brian’s sound—a bad string caught our ears during a few songs. He doesn’t switch guitars as much as Myles or Mark, so he doesn’t get a fresh set of strings for each few sets of songs. I doubt it was noticeable to anyone NOT standing right in front of him.

Myles checking his guitar

One other change worth noting is the new Plexiglas shield surrounding Scott Phillips’ drum set. I had the chance to ask “Flip” after the St. Louis show about it, and he said that one of his cymbals was directly in line with Myles’ ears, and the pitch or wavelength (I’m no physics major) was greatly exacerbating Myles’ well-known problems with tinnitus. That made perfect sense, as my tinnitus came about from drumming my own kit with an iPod on full volume in 2003 and 2004—with my crash cymbal set right at left ear level. And my left has been ringing ever since.

The shield brought an end to Myles ear bleeds at least, and I am wondering if we will see anything similar with drummer Brent Fitz when Myles hits the road yet again with Slash in mid-January. Fitz did not have a shield for the brief fall tour of the US.

Myles in front of Flip and the drum shield

I have alluded to Myles’s involvement with the audience, but I want to be clear that the entire band is fully engaged with its fans from start to finish. Poor Flip may be cut off a bit from us now, but you can’t hide his grin. Brian relished eye contact with the fans and rewards everyone he catches with a big smile. And even Mark, who is a bit busy shredding his guitar 90% of the time, has pedals on both sides of the stage so he can showcase his formidable talent to all. Given any break, he also searched out fans, sending out nods and smiles. Myles is no different, and has more freedom to do so, since there are a number of songs during which he is not playing a guitar.

Brian Marshall and Mark Tremonti working stage-right

During “Before Tomorrow Comes,” the third song in the set, lights were raised a bit and Myles did his own search of the crowd, finding a sea of grinning faces and many hardcore followers. Okay, by that I mean me. I twitter this poor man senseless, and he knows when I will be at any given show. As soon as he saw me (and my sister) on the rail he grinned and echoed my thumbs up. (1:45 on the tape--followed by my scream or Sarah's , I'm not sure.) The video of Before Tomorrow Comes also includes the beginning of "Brand New Start."

The show overall was simply fantastic. It was tight and sounded great—or as good as the acoustics at the infamous House of Blues will allow. (A quick search of venue reviews will show that this is not one of the best, sound-wise or crowd management-wise, to which I have already alluded.) Some of the highlights include their great new song “Ghosts of Days Gone By,” which has an upbeat opening that descends into a minor key, taking it way down into a very dark place, peaking with 15-second note on the line, “I don’t want to die.” Chilling does not quite capture the emotion.

"Blackbird" was also extremely emotional, and Myles' solo was very enjoyable given how much he really leans into it. Steph was recording this song when I leaned over to point out to her that he was leading into the song with the Beatles' "Blackbird" as he commonly did. Had I known it was "on" I would have saved my comments for later and I also would have NOT SUNG and kept my arm out of the way... Hindsight...

"Broken Wings" is a personal favorite for a few reasons, one of which is the fact that he doesn't get to hide behind a guitar, as it was written by Mark before Myles joined the band. A qorgeous song deserves an equally appealing front singer, and Myles delivers on this one. Again, his head is cut off occasionally, but you have plenty of other things to look at. (God, if he--or his wife--reads this I will DEFINITELY get sent that restraining order.) And just to encourage our bad behavior, he chose this song to come over and shake hands. Would have started with Steph but she was holding the camera (God bless ya, girl) so he grabbed my hand with a solid grip, flashing his million-dollar smile.(I’m only guessing its worth by how much it means to me.) He shook Sarah's, then slapped the rest of the hands on the rail.In case I haven’t mentioned it: This is a band that appreciates its fans.

Favorite moment? I think so. 3:34 on the video--Thanks, Myles. No coincidence the moment is followed by some heavy fanning, as well as a very lewd comment from someone who sounds a whole lot like me (but couldn't possibly be) less than a minute later. (I am in SO deep now.) DISCLAIMER: I thought Steph was just taking pictures. I did NOT KNOW she was filming. I swear on a pug's life I didn't know. (I am so screwed.)

Moving on...

"I Know It Hurts" from ABIII is a great song to sing along to, and we did. There is a wonderful shot of Brian, Myles and Mark playing side by side, then you can see Myles laughing and looking up into the balcony. There was an extremely inebriated fan doing his very best air guitar up there, and we were all amazed he did not flip out of the balcony to his death below. He was pretty amusing. Hope he remembered attending the show. "Come to Life" from the Blackbird album followed. Myles' head is cut off for much of the video, but I can attest to the fact that it was really still there. Good chance to appreciate his regular jogging, anyway. Little bit of F-bomb dropping and the band's motto, "Don't forget we're here to stay!"

Myles said later they were all surprised that the American audiences knew the ABIII lyrics so fast, as it didn't drop in the US until November 11. They probably didn't expect us to be listening to the ripped versions posted on YouTube from the European fans the minute THEY got it--though everyone I know bought the CD and iTunes version when it came out. No pirates here!!

Though we did not get an acoustic set, we did still enjoy Myles and Mark dueling it out with their guitars immediately prior to “Rise Today.” Myles always sneaks a little blues feeling in there and Mark, not surprisingly, shreds the fuck out of his PRS. Mark is a man possessed, and Myles makes hilarious faces as he coaxes the best out of his own axe. In the end, Myles graciously hands the title to Mark, and the crowd roars. Tough man Mark grins despite himself.

The show ends with “Rise Today” and as usual, we all sing back no matter how hoarse we already are. As they wrap up the song, Wookie steps out to hand Myles a handful of picks, and he steps up and crouches down in front of me (coincidence, I am sure) and starts passing them out like communion (that perverse idea from Steph, I think) to each and every one he can reach. He tosses the remainder over our heads and we tuck ours into our pockets.

My sister, meanwhile, is elbowing the shit out of me and asking me “Where is it??” as Myles is handing out picks in front of us. I have no idea what she is talking about and hold up my pick.

“The book! Give him the book!”

The book. I bought a book for Myles birthday months ago called “The Dog’s Purpose” by Bruce Cameron. Anyone who knows even the smallest tidbit of background on Myles knows that he LOVES dogs—particularly pugs (and of course, his own Shih-Tzi, Sigmund.) While he was getting picks from Wookie, and the security dude was preoccupied, I sent my book on a short Frisbee trip to the stage floor, where it was immediately picked up by Flip. He turned it over and saw Myles name on it and handed it to him. As I had tweeted a heads up prior to the show that I had a book for him, he looked right from the book to me, and mouthed “Thank you,” nodding his head and smiling big. Mission accomplished, and well worth juggling the damn thing through the entire show along with the dorky signs I made and brought. He’s holding it in this ever-so-slightly unfocused picture of their end bow.

Myles, Brian, Mark, and Flip--really, LOL

Some 16 hours after heading out to the show from Madison, the world’s ugliest stage curtain dropped. I turned my back to the stage and slid right to the ground. I was exhausted from trying to pretend I was not exhausted. I also couldn’t breathe—which started as soon as they had herded us tightly onto those stairs some 4 hours earlier. I had numerous dizzy spells during Sick Puppies and Alter Bridge, and was yawning non-stop—not from being tired but as a sign of low oxygen. I used my small signs mostly to try and circulate air during the full length of the show, and did the same now.

It was at this point that Steph jumped in excitement and said, “Let’s go to the after party!!” This woman clearly uses a different brand of batteries than I do. I made a mental note to look into that. All I could think about was the big plush bed up on the 8th floor of The Sax. I could hear it calling my name, ever so sweetly…

I told Steph I would have to be a lousy host (she had flown in to us, after all) and send her on her own. My feet needed elevation, my lungs needed air, and my ears needed silence. She graciously helped me to my feet and we headed out. Sarah had already frolicked ahead to catch up with some friends. Steph and I took our time, pausing to take some pics with the HoB artwork. LOVE the interior—wish it were a better place to actually enjoy a show!!

Steph with Gulf States painting--photo by ME!

Yes, I had PUG shirts made for Myles' shows--Why are you surprised?

Needless to say, none of the detractions did much to diminish out enjoyment of Alter Bridge—with the exception of worrying about passing out. Thank God for the rail to hold myself up. Happened at a packed stadium show for Foo Fighters in 2008 in Chicago as well, only it was the 18 year-old next to me that passed out, not the old lady next to him who was hanging over the rail gasping for air, using a larger sign to find some. (Those signs can be lifesavers!) We passed him over the rail and hoped for the best. I made it through but gulped air like a fish out of water when I hit the cold outside.

Back at the HoB, we caught up with Sarah and friends downstairs, and she was also hearing those beds call her name. Steph looked over to the entrance for a second, and decided to go back with us. We assured her that Alter Bridge would be hitting the road ASAP to beat the storm o nthe way to STL, and would NOT be at the after party. As far as I know, they were not (at the bar.) If I’m wrong, I’d rather not know. Ignorance is bliss.

Sarah was under the covers and snoring within approximately 4 seconds when we hit the room. Steph went for her computer, and I went for the shower. Had to wash the Bad City blood out of my poor ears, and HoB oversell stench out of the rest of me. I had this unsettling feeling the whole time that the smartest thing we could have done was hit the road ourselves for STL, but it is hard to drive when you are sound asleep, so we decided to err on the side of sleep.

Snow fell as we fell into sleep. We would pay dearly for those 8 hours the next day.

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The Perfect Storm--Alter Bridge Prelude #1

[Ed. note: I had to break this story up. Getting to Alter Bridge in Chicago and St. Louis was one of the greatest rock challenges I have faced in years, and I wanted to record it in full detail.]

The Perfect Storm--Alter Bridge Prelude #1
This section deals with my sister Sarah and I getting from Madison, Wisconsin to the front rail at the House of Blues in Chicago, and meeting up with Stephanie from Houston. Next piece will detail the opening bands, Bad City and The Sick Puppies.

Many concert-goers believe that attending a show consists of nothing more than driving a short to moderate distance to a local venue about an hour before doors open—if that—joining the masses for a jolly evening of beer and song, then heading home for a fitful sleep.

When a band rules your world that is not how it works.

In our world, a rock and roll road trip is not worth its salt if not filled with hardship and adversity. My most recent attempt with family and friends to share body space with Myles Kennedy of Alter Bridge more than qualifies. Alter Bridge was scheduled for the House of Blues in Chicago on December 11 and at The Pageant in St. Louis on December 13. Seemed a simple affair to drive from Madison to Chicago, enjoy a luxurious night at The Sax (courtesy of credit card points earned from Ginger’s 2009 surgery), then drive over to STL for two more luxurious nights at the Moonrise Hotel (courtesy of us paying through the nose to be impossibly close to the venue), with another concert thrown in for good measure. My sister Sarah provided the car and chauffer service, and she and her husband, Jeff, provided the chairs, sleeping bags, heating packs and propane-fueled heater we hoped we would not need during the trip. We also filled the car with every possible incarnation of chocolate, with Vodka in the trunk for safe measure.

Steph, Sarah and I waiting for Alter Bridge at House of Blues... pic thanks to unknown fan

Our good friend Stephanie, from my band of Chris Cornell fans, had decided to give Alter Bridge a try after my incessant Internet nagging. She flew up from Houston to meet us in Chicago, and we all planned to drive together to STL, where she would fly out after the concert. She was very excited at the prospect of cold and snow. Yes, you read that correctly. We were understanding of the fact that the Gulf pollution had clearly affected her ability to think clearly, and packed extra clothes for her rude awakening; extra liquor for her inevitable disillusionment.

Saturday’s forecast predicted 6-12” snow for the Chicago area. Numerous naysayers warned us of our impending demise on I-90, but they were to be disappointed. The scheduled storm was so late in arriving that it had barely begun to rain by the time we reached The Sax Hotel downtown, shortly before noon. The delightful valets practically swept me up to our swanky room with our luggage (Sarah ran to grab our spot at HoB), making me feel almost reluctant to leave. You know how those puffed up, freshly–made beds can beckon after a few hours on the road and nothing but hours of standing ahead of you… Devotedly, I made my way back down to the House of Blues, where Sarah was chatting with a father and son who had come in just before us. Third in line. Not bad.

At any Alter Bridge show, you can divide the fans into three distinct groups; general Alter Bridge Fans, vocalist Myles Kennedy fans, and fans of their lead guitarist, Mark Tremonti. As of this writing, Mark’s group still outnumbers the first two (though the MK groupies are gaining in him!) so as long as anyone in front of you is a Mark fan, you know instantly that he or she will be heading for the right side of the stage. That clears the path for us Myles’ fans headed dead center, or left of center. It’s not that we don’t appreciate or adore Mark—who doesn’t?—but we have seen enough shows to know that Mark actually spends a lot of time on both sides of the stage, and that bassist Brian Marshall is a sweetheart that loves to play with the crowd. The right side is overrated and we are content that it stays that way.

Six hours in line is a long time. If you’re social, it goes a little faster. Accordingly, it felt like twenty minutes to Stephanie and my sister, and roughly 36 hours long to me. I did get a little further in my Eleanor Roosevelt biography, however. We were surrounded by genuinely nice fellows, so a shout-out to brothers Casey and Caleb, and their sick but stoic friend, Brian—none of whom will probably ever see this blog. Casey had a wife and five week-old baby at home, the latter to whom he referred as Lower Case. Women love that sort of thing. I do, anyway.

If you have never been to the House of Blues in Chicago, let me take one moment to commend it for its great interior styling (hugely eclectic Cajun paintings—actually every single inch of wall space is brightly painted), delicious food, gracious staff, and ample hallway allowing us to forego freezing our asses off while waiting. (Click on picture to see it greatly enlarged--the detail is great--then hit BACK ARROW, don't close it)

Entrance to HoB restaurant-notorious stairs on right side of picture

They also offer a deal through Live Nation where you can purchase a meal beforehand and gain a pass to the front of the line. This didn’t work out so well for two reasons. First, the crowd grew so large with still an hour to pass—and the rain was starting to turn to snow outside—that the HoB staff decided to make use of the double-sided stairs leading up to the main floor to fit more people in the building. Nice idea, bad planning. As soon as they told us to move, all of us who had been in line for days filled one side of the staircase, and those behind us filled the other side. So that meant that our waiting was for naught as both sides of the stairs would be released at the same time. Until my sister realized what was happening.

Don’t get me wrong, there was instant grumbling and near-rumbling between both sides the second we filled the stairs, but my sister was so engaged in a UFC debate with the brothers behind us that she didn’t see what was happening. That didn’t last long. Sarah, who is not afraid to ask to have her meal returned if any of the different foods are touching on the plate, is slightly more assertive when she’s been fueling herself with UV Blue Vodka and lemonade for several hours. She took the stairs at a single leap and launched herself at the two security guards, one for each side of the staircase. A heated debate ensued, of which we could hear nothing since opening band Mad City took advantage of a little lead time to practice their musical abc’s at full volume just above us.

I saw concern on the faces around me that she might go too far and piss them off so much (she was a little fired up) that we’d turn out to be the last people let in to the venue, but I know her much better, and she was merely pouring on the charm and working her standard concert low-cut, form-fitting blouse. She could soon be seen flashing us a smile as she hugged both staff members and trotted, then fell, down the stairs on top of us. She had convinced them to give our side a 20 second head-start.

For those of you wondering why this is such a big deal, you clearly have not read my blog before—which is fine, and Welcome!—and don’t yet understand the personal importance Sarah and I place on being on the rail, front and center. Why? Because that is where Myles is. Need I go on?

Those last 7 hours on the stairs were painful. They had us crammed in two people per stair, per side, and they were old, narrow stairs—and we ourselves were all fairly older, and no longer narrow. We could also easily smell the bathroom on the other side of the wall in the restaurant. Not pleasant. Add Mad City shrieking above us and conversation (or thought) became impossible unless you were drunk enough that you were already shouting. I was already holding my ears.

At long last, they let our side loose to make for the rail. The minute our heads cleared the staircase and saw the floor, we were dumbfounded. The rail was almost completely covered with a single line of ingrates. WTF? We took what was left and immediately started asking questions. “So,” I asked, smiling sweetly, “how did you happen to get my spot on the rail for which I woke at 6 am, drove 3 hours and waited 4 weeks in line?”

Now I have been to a lot of shows, and I thought I had heard everything by now, but this just proves that you just never know who’s going to show up and completely fuck you over. The House of Blues had given an extra pass to each professional photographer, and the photographers friends had been let in before the actual fans had. My sister turned a Christmas shade of red in seconds flat. The first pass-holder next to us claimed that she was merely doing a photographer friend a favor by holding a spot on the rail for him, since he would be spending the first three songs shooting the show between us and the stage, in the small space where security stands.

I was actually stymied for a few minutes at the idiocy and transparency of this claim. Photographers take their allotted pictures up front and then disappear. They don’t re-surface on the rail—they work the pictures from one set until the next set, when they are let back in for the first three songs of the next band. It was then that I realized that while I had a tiny amount of respect for being sneaky (it is no secret I am a professional rock star stalker who is not afraid to hide a few cards up her sleeve) I had no respect for bald-faced lying—and this chick was lying. I think if she had just admitted from the beginning that she got a pass because she was with the photographer, and looked just a wee bit sheepish, things would have gone a little more smoothly. But no one appreciates being lied to by someone less than half their age, especially someone who has never even seen the band that you have been following for their entire career (almost 7 years, in this case).

But I could tell from the outset that this young woman had prepared herself for opposition and was not going anywhere. We were going to be standing on the rail between Myles and bassist Brian—and all things considered—that is still not a bad place to be. I looked over at Sarah and she was gone, and those around me just shrugged when I asked where the hell she’d gone off to. My internal panic button went off.

The manager. Well, she won in principle, if nothing else. The manager did come up to our young friend and tell her that no one was allowed to hold a spot for someone working the show and coming much later—and who would be going in and out. So she nodded, said okay, and gave up 3 inches (I measured them). The manager missed the point that she still should not be allowed to be there before the dozen of us, and left the scene ebfore it blew up any further. I had tried up until this point to stay between the gal and my sister, who looked madder than Burbin the neighborhood Rottweiler, but once the manager was gone she asked me if she could “talk” to her. I had just “made nice” with the gal and accepted the situation—let it go—and prepared myself to enjoy my evening, when I was faced with an image of my little sister beating the shit out of some college student who thought it was a good idea to play games with drunk and devoted Alter Bridge fans.

But I can’t control my sister anymore than I could control the new concept of photographers’ friend passes, so I let her in and mentally turned off the right side of my hearing as she tore the kid several new ones. Not surprisingly, a 9.0 earthquake would not have moved the young girl after that. We were in for the night. It was just after 7 p.m. The first band of three was to begin at 8. It was going to be a long night, waiting for Myles and his tentacle tattoos.


Pic courtesy of www.myspace.com/alterbridge/photos/78321716

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