Motley Crue: Live in Alamo City
At 5:00 PM on Friday, I learned that the Crue would be shouting at the devil in San Antonio in a few short hours. I wasn?t looking for hookers or anything, but the start to my bachelor weekend (Sarah is in Chapel Hill) needed some spontaneity. Motley Crue: Nikki, Vince, Tommy, and that weird, quiet guy that sort of resembles Michael Jackson. Just what Dr. Feelgood ordered.
I pulled into the SBC Center parking lot about 8:30PM. Appropriately, it really was like a 21st Century Heavy Metal Parking Lot. High-schoolers, who were literally babies when the band?s greatest hit collection, Decade of Decadence was released, huddled around Cavaliers and Mustangs, sipping on Lone Stars. “Too Fast 4 Love” (Motley Crue?s brilliant 1982 debut) had been soaped on a family van. In Texas, diversity shows up in unpredictable places. I saw bikers, crusty punks, lesbians, Mexican groupies (really, their car rocked a Nuevo Leon plate), small-town rancher kids, and every metalhead imaginable.
At 5:00 PM on Friday, I learned that the Crue would be shouting at the devil in San Antonio in a few short hours. I wasn?t looking for hookers or anything, but the start to my bachelor weekend (Sarah is in Chapel Hill) needed some spontaneity. Motley Crue: Nikki, Vince, Tommy, and that weird, quiet guy that [url=http://www.publicrealm.com/images/weblog/mick-mike.jpg]sort of resembles Michael Jackson[/url]. Just what Dr. Feelgood ordered.
I pulled into the SBC Center parking lot about 8:30PM. Appropriately, it really was like a 21st Century [url=http://www.heavymetalparkinglot.net]Heavy Metal Parking Lot[/url]. High-schoolers, who were literally babies when the band?s greatest hit collection, Decade of Decadence was released, huddled around Cavaliers and Mustangs, sipping on Lone Stars. “Too Fast 4 Love” (Motley Crue?s brilliant 1982 debut) had been soaped on a family van. In Texas, diversity shows up in unpredictable places. I saw bikers, crusty punks, lesbians, Mexican groupies (really, their car rocked a Nuevo Leon plate), small-town rancher kids, and every metalhead imaginable.
The guilt sank in as I peeled off the twenties for the scalper. I couldn?t race down to SA for a Crue show and sit in nosebleeds. Of course, my seats sucked despite forking over way too much money for lower arena. I could see the stage OK, but I was in the “irony and nostalgia” section. Half of these snoozers thought it would be cool to relive mullet memories and the other half thought it would be fun to point and laugh at the metalheads that still have mullets. Basically, these dudes weren?t throwing horns to the ceiling and that was a problem. So, as I did at my very first concert (Bon Jovi/Cinderella), I snuck down to the floor. Like I said, it?s not hookers, but it was as close to the Wild Side as I wanted to get.
From the floor I could really appreciate the stage backdrop: sort of a psycho-circus, trashy Cirque du Soleil theme–with midgets. As the band ripped through early classics like Looks that Kill and Live Wire, I could finally appreciate what I?ve long hear about San Antonio: this city likes its metal. Everyone?old, young, male, female?sang along to every song. As you might expect, “Home Sweet Home” was all goosebumps. There was no sitting either, which kind of surprised me. The band rewarded the audience for being so devoted: “You guys are some crazy motherf$%ers!” The crowd went nuts. When the show lost a little energy, a few more F-bombs (not to mention a few real bombs), and the SBC Center was electric. Besides all of the hits, we were treated to pyro, boobies, acrobats, little people, theramins, a Tommy Lee mini-rave, claymation, and lots of curse words. I didn’t think it could get any better until the finale: Helter Skelter right into Anarchy in the USA.
April 18th, 2005
