Clubbin' and Lovin' in Minneapolis by Alex Sandell

Part 4:  Ashamed to Bang, Fairly Nice Tits and Axl Gets Pissed:

Enough of my bragging about banging and back to headbanging.  I saw Guns 'N Roses when they were unknown and opened for Alice Cooper, at the Roy Wilkin's Auditorium.  GNR was EXCELLENT!  So was Alice.  Even now, I'd give both of them props for their early accomplishments. 

When I went to the Use Your Illusion tour (8th row, on the floor), Axl's head was so fucking big, it was amazing the capacity audience could even fit in the room. 

I remember the camera crew going around to find babes eager to take off their tops, to alleviate the crowd's boredom, as we all waited hour after hour for Axl Rose to get over his hissy-fit.  He was pissed because people didn't yell the band's name loud enough, after the opening act.  Axl thought we had to be punished.  I wonder if he's living in a ditch, now?

One lady exposed her fairly nice knockers to the cameras and, after the audience applauded her for her generosity, security removed her from the auditorium.  Axl loves his petty games. 

Soundgarden opened for the band.  GNR didn't get onstage until nearly 3 AM.  The audience sat for SIX hours waiting for Axl to get over his sorry ass self.

The concert started out decent enough, with some heavy songs, but the show quickly turned into an Elton John fest.  Axl played the piano and sang about peace and understanding.  Then he jumped into the audience and grabbed a bootlegger's camera and destroyed it.  He was fined for slugging one of his fans for flicking him off.  The entire time he wore those dorky biker shorts he thought made him look cool.  At some point, he put on a skirt.

My friend and I started throwing cigarettes at the band.  We accidentally hit Slash once, which sucked, since we were aiming for Axl.  I've quit smoking since then, so now I guess I'd just have to bean the prick in the head with something heavy.  A bowling ball, maybe?

I saw Weird Al at the Orpheum.  Everyone sat down the entire show.  They politely clapped as Al finished a popular number that he stole from artists with actual talent.  I thought I was in China (and realized that Weird Al really isn't that funny). 

We managed to snag backstage passes for the Weird One, but were disappointed when we found out that he was a snobby, humorless dickwad.  Let down with Al's attitude, my friend and I both burned our autographed backstage passes.  Probably not a good idea, but there was no such thing as eBay, yet.

Like anyone over 25, childhood nostalgia sucked me into a KISS concert.  What a waste of time (and sucking).  These elderly clowns should get off the stage and stay off. 

I attended the Psycho Circus tour, which was in "3D," and was bored out of my mind.  This band screws their fans harder than Ken Star imagines screwing Monica.  KISS HATES their fans, actually.  They're angry with them for never taking the band seriously, and only caring about seeing them wearing stupid outfits and greasepaint. 

That's prolly because all 9 members (Ace Frehley, Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Eric Carr, Peter Criss, Bruce Kulick, Vinnie Vincent, Eric Singer, Bob Kulick) combined have about as much talent as the worst Junior High School Band in history -- and that talent comes exclusively from Eric Carr and Ace Frehley.  Yet, the band has been desperate to prove that they're the next Beatles (only in drag), since they started their lousy career.

There was supposed to be a live circus before the show -- it wasn't there.  The 3D was mediocre, and they only had about 4 3D scenes filmed, and those scenes kept rotating on the big screens, until everyone in the audience -- with exception made for one dude way up in the back -- sat down and impatiently waited for the concert to end.  

I eventually took off my glasses and watched the band do the exact same thing that they had done for 30 years.  Gene puked blood and spit fire.  Paul gyrated like a member of the Special Olympics with a hoola-hoop.  I think Peter was dead.  By the end of the Psycho Circus "event," I wanted to kill myself. 

Another dud of a concert was Metallica.  A couple of friends and myself bought tickets to the show.  Then Lars started mouthing off about Napster and the band began pissing and moaning to members of congress and started suing their fans.  When a band sues their fans, they're a band I no longer want to support -- especially when the band used to encourage bootlegging of their music.  We scalped the tickets for about half of what we paid for them and went to some dance party at 1st Avenue.

During this timeframe I saw Dee Snider's band, Widowmaker.  For some reason, back around '84 and '85, I was a fan of Twisted Sister.  I think mostly 'cuz they said, "we're not gonna take it," and my adolescent self could identify.  The Widowmaker songs sucked hard, and, when Dee finally sang some Twisted hits (I Wanna Rock, We're Not Gonna Take It), I gave him five (I was in the front row of a long gone headbanger haunt), and ended up cutting his middle finger with my uncut nails. 

He deserved it.  The bastard. 

Although I enjoyed almost every concert I've attended (with exception made for KISS and the Metallica show I paid for, but didn't attend), I realized, on June 18th, 2004, that, when compared to Prince, EVERYONE else to ever put on a show is a sorry amateur.  Even Chubby Checker, at the Holiday Inn...

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