I went to see my boyfriend play in his band. Oh stick with me I'll get super groupie by the end of this and you'll think I'm still listening to Quiet Riot. They played for that artist's holiday party. It was a super guest list only party with a bunch of girls standing behind velvet ropes in the cold neith the glow of the Meat Packing district. The studio was covered in fake snow, and most of the guests had really damaged hair and hulking leather jackets on. It was hot. The first band was called Lonnie Anderson, or something. They were really young boys from Connecticut. The band cut through the audience in a drunken scream, something between speed metal, and mentally challenged. I looked over at mike for his opinion; I’m not very good when it comes to gauging the lunatics. Mike was transfixed as the lead singer made ears bleed with his screaming into the mic. The guitarist was jumping up and down hitting his guitar; the drummer drilled his bass, hat and toms like a machine.
Mike: Awesome!
I start to laugh, everyone is laughing. The music is so intense and so ridiculous. Oshal starts the mosh pit and the original Marsha jumps it to beat the shit out of him in her mosh pit. She's every bit of a giant Mike told me about. Marsha, a Long island girl, wearing a jean skirt and mauve puffy sleeved shirt from her closet of the 80's, I think she's 23 though so go figure. Marsha the girl who Matthew and Matt invited to come work for them only to find that her one true talent was the mosh pit and little else. Marsha the one they called Clamp, because in the end that's what she did. She'd hold stuff for the guys in the studio with her huge hands. and. not. let. go.
Then my boyfriend got on stage. I like to say this because a) he was really hot and b) well if I have to explain, you'll never understand. Earlier he pulled me aside in his hey babe kind of way, which I am still trying to get used to. He said, I bought that guitar tonight, the one I was telling you about, and there's the axe. He loves telling me secrets, maybe because he never knows how I'll respond. I smile and do my best not to say something retarded like, "oh gosh how much did that cost?"
I remain nonpulsed. Maybe I've seen him do this before, in a dream or something. When his thin strong body strikes every fucking cord, how he slides his fist down the neck, drunk as a fuck, fast and hard the whole audience is watching, he's eating it up.That's when he does it. The guitar switch. The eagle. The song:
You watch our MTV
You eat our KFC
You take our PCP
You watch Ron Jeremy
Then you question our Foreign Policy
Mostly the songs are about guy things, Evil Knievel, freight trains, bar fights, and when Dow is trashed, which is the only way they play, he sings about politics. The Eagle is the anthem of Clamp. But I am getting way to into this; I'm a fucking groupie girlfriend. I'm supposed to talk about Hot Hot, my boyfriend, and how everyone wants him.
Right.
Mike spins the guitar off his shoulder and slams the black 80's style lightning bolt to the floor, then again. He picks up the axe and with all the energy of the Eagle and the anticipation of beating the shit out of this guitar all day, he turns it to splinters. The crowd cheers. The set is over. Clamp exits the stage... the smoke machine is still on high. The feedback settles.
"Oh my gawd, Mikey was so... hot!"
"yeah, I mean Kate did you know he was going to do that"
chatter chatter. Suddenly I am surrounded by like 5 women, but in this scenario let's say girls. And I am giggling with them, somewhat self-consciously. One of them hands me a piece of the splintered guitar. They just go on and on, fortunately Jonathan points out the fact that I've been surrounded and we have a laugh. Meanwhile I'm saying to myself. "Yep he is one hot motherfucker, he is aaaall mine. He can't even stand he's so drunk. I am one lucky girl. And I am totally sleepin alone tonight. Later I showed him his guitar, which he was totally proud of. "That was hot baby". We kissed as he swayed. That man is going home to puke tonight.