This weekend, I saw The Flaming Lips for the second time. The first time I saw them was a couple years ago at the Pageant, and it was easily the best show I've ever been to. Not only was their set full of my favorite songs, but it's impossible not to sing along as confetti is shot out of cannons and aliens dance on stage. Basically, I imagine it's like the best trip anyone on acid has ever had.
The show this weekend was in Columbia, outside of the Blue Note. I had the option to buy tickets to the STL show, but since Saturday was Andy's birthday, I wanted to go all out! I'm really glad I did. It was also the first outdoor concert experience for both of us, and it couldn't have been better.
Although the show was incredible (they closed with "Do You Realize?", Wayne rolled around in his infamous plastic bubble, and a topless chick spent half of the concert hanging out of her window), I still managed to do some people-watching.
Here are a few of the archetypes I noticed on Saturday:
1. The Bouncer. The Bouncer has an inherit sense of concert justice that will not be compromised. He (or she) maintains order by ushering drunk people away, ensuring that everyone can see the stage, and intimidating people who are acting like assholes. The Bouncer by us looked exactly like Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons and successfully guided loud, drunk girls away from us, lectured some frat boy on the logistics of crowd surfing, and politely but firmly chastised anyone blocking our view.
2. The Know It All. The Know It All has an overwhelming, yet pretentious love for the band. He (or she) feels compelled to predict the set list, reflect on how this experience is different than "the time I saw them at ____," and balk at anyone having an unproportionate amount of fun. The Know It All will sing along, fist pump furiously, and use any down time to spew useless facts. The Know It All on Saturday was a Michael Cera-ish hipster. Maybe this is why I had the urge to fight him, Mortal Combat-style.
3. The Ignorant Slut. The Ignorant Slut is dolled up, drunk, and has no idea why she (or he) is there. They doesn't know anything about the band, but spent hours getting ready and has consumed enough Miller Lite to have a good time. He/she doesn't care if half of their beer ends up on your shoes, or that they has no idea what the fuck is going on. The Ignorant Slut by us was wearing fake feather eye lashes (which were frankly kind of fabulous), and kept asking "What is TFL?" as her friends gushed about the show.
I'm sure there are others I'm leaving out of this list, but these were definitely the most prominent concert-goers in the 3x3 space where we spent most of the show. Overall, I had a great time. Not only did I get to see possibly my favorite live band ever, but I hung out with friends from college, and had a much needed slice of Shakespeare's pizza (with wheat crust, of course).
As Comic Book Guy would say, best. weekend. ever.