Placebo's DC Concert - Jan 1999
Who has the strength and the smarts to steal America's heart?
It's a three-part (three-person) answer for the hopeful crowd of young girls in silver-sequined tops, tight black flared slacks, platform shoes, and the occasional stole; teenage boys in baggy jeans with long loops of chains hanging out of their jeans pockets; twentysomething couples plainly dressed in jeans and flannel shirts; and the occasional thirtysomething men and women in suits or silk shirts and velvet slacks. The different groups eye each other in curiosity, friendly in a guarded way; they seem to accept each other. In a dark, downtown club in a semi-dangerous neighborhood, that's more than might be expected.
Most of us have been here all night, chattering our teeth and stamping our feet in the freezing cold outdoors for an hour before finally being let in to the 9:30 Club. Upon admittance, we surge to the front of the club floor edging the raised platform of the concert stage.
Two of the teenage boys in baggy jeans and chains, WHFS radio contest winners, dash to the front row immediately. They turn to face the crowd, leaning against the raised platform and scanning the club floor constantly. It seems almost as if they're unsure of themselves in these surroundings. Misplaced Korn fans, maybe? In any case, they sure seem intent on getting a good view of the band.
We, the ones who were first in line, plant our feet defiantly as others behind us try to nudge through the front-row line and overtake the choice spots.
As the night progresses, the club becomes even more crowded and darker as we all wait patiently through the good yet undistinguished music of Splitsville, the opening act. When the lead singer of the band yells out, "So, WHO ARE YOU HERE FOR?" most of the crowd, slightly confused at theobviousness of the question, stands in polite silence. (From overheard conversations, it seems that most have never heard of Splitsville.)
Finally, the stage is cleared and is then set for the main act. The loud murmurs of ongoing conversations among audience members lower to a hush as technicians carefully place two standing microphones on either end of the raised platform.
I nearly shriek in surprise when the much shorter of the two standing microphones is placed at my end of the stage - the left side of the stage - directly in front of me.
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Placebo - Melbourne 1999
