The Perfect Storm--Alter Bridge Opening Acts 2010

Opening band/Co-headliner with Alter Bridge in Chicago

[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, Opening Acts for Chicago 2010

Bad City

There’s a new reason to hate Billy Corgan (the attitude, not the music) if you need it. He invited the newly-formed opening band Bad City on his 2010 tour, calling them a “super fresh take on the Rock.” What the fuck does that mean? Who says “the Rock?” Billy Corgan, apparently. (Source: Wiki)

My Cornell friend and Chicago native Vera will NOT be amused to learn that they named their band after the city she loves, and not in a good way. I’m kind of hoping she’ll take it upon herself to take them down with an underground sign campaign. I think she could do it. She’s a star.

Bad City was not that bad, if you don’t count that fact that they are the first band to ever make my ears bleed. Okay, that’s not fair: only my left ear started bleeding. I’m chalking this up to their super-cheap, over-cranked amplifier sitting precisely at ear level in front of me. It was fellow Alter Bridger Steve Porter who saved what was left of my little internal drum sets by giving me a pair of ear plugs. Several days later, there is still physical pain in my left ear. Clever way to get an audience to remember you, if you ask me.

I mean, really, lead singer Josh Caddy had us from the start with his spot-on imitation of being the bastard son of Flock of Seagulls. That and his endearing habit of alternatively humping and twirling his shortened mic stand while posed precariously like the Karate Kid on an empty gear box on the edge of the stage. At the show in St. Louis, where he actually had a fan—a young woman who lost her fucking mind and began shrieking and tossing herself into us as if she did weigh more than 75lbs—he stole more than a few hearts (and tossed several stomachs) when he dramatically tore off his shirt for their final song, “Wild Animal.” Nothing turns you on like the pale skin of an underfed 15 year-old. And spitting his bottle of water up over himself like some kind of, I don’t know, wild animal, had us all a little faint in the knees.

I sure hope that feeling goes away soon. And the bleeding. This tampon in my ear looks ridiculous.

Next up was a real band I wish I’d known more about before we got there: the Sick Puppies. I am still convinced there used to be an American (or English?) punk band back in the late 70’s by that name, but I can’t find any proof, so don’t listen to me—unless you can prove me right. That would be keen, as my friend Tom Volk says. (Skinny Puppies??)

This trio from Australia is fun, hard-core, and cute as a trio of healthy puppies. Formed in 1997, they are now based out of L.A. and consist of drummer Mark Goodwin, look-at-how-the-fan-blows-my-hair-back-all-super-sexy bassist, Emma Anzai, and suspected Matt Cameron’s younger brother, vocalist Shimon Moore.

Emma, Shimon and Mark of the Sick Puppies

Shimon (Shim) could probably sing the phone book and hold the attention of his audience. He is very pretty. He was also set up right in front of us, which made up for a lot of the earlier pain. I also quickly developed a crush on the bassist—or rather, her Warwick bass. My ex taught me to appreciate several exclusive bass brands, and that is one that I fell in love with years ago. It was, simply speaking, sexy as shit. It was as tall as Emma, and was something between black and dark grey with the traditional wavy wood grain that you see in all Warwicks. I would have done that guitar in a second. Then I would have done Emma. She’s as hot as Shim, with or without the hair fan. She did not heed the manager’s very clear, recorded message about the dangers of head-banging, and was a blur with a few exceptions for hair-blown posing at her back-up mic.

Very fitting shot of Emma (by Stephanie Munoz)

Shim was great at working the Chicago audience. He had the whole audience in his hand fairly quickly by playing covers such as Rage Against the Machine’s “Bulls on Parade” (part of it, anyhow) and Cee Lo’s viral hit, “Fuck You.” He genuinely wanted everyone to sing along, and I was so concerned about disappointing him that I just sang “I don’t know the words to this song yet” over and over. I did remember some lyrics for the second show in STL, but decided my time was better spent standing outside in sub-zero temperatures as Shim played his set in a nice, warm bar. Hindsight is 20/20…

Shim tearing it up (by Stephanie Munoz)

Shim, Emma and Mark played an hour set that was very enjoyable though somewhat incohesive the way the covers were thrown in seemingly at random. I know I would have enjoyed them more had I not been watching the digital clock behind them showing me how much longer it was going to be before Alter Bridge came on. As their set closed, I took a last mental picture of pretty boy Shim and watched as the world’s most hideous quilt-curtain covered the stage.

Shim in earnest (by Stephanie Munoz)

Side note: The only thing that made the constant blathering of the local radio station jocks tolerable—all of whom were barely able to stand between acts since their sponsors were all liquor-based—was the fact that both the HoB staff and most of the photographers were ridiculously good-looking. Still not worth our losing our signature spot, but worth noting.

[To be continued...]