Primus Sucks!

I saw Primus in concert last night. PRIMUS, I know. V had a ticket to fly solo at the show, which is fine as Primus must be one of the most dudefests of all dudefests. I’m sure more women are at Metallica concerts. But right before the show, he decided he wanted me to go. It was sold-out, but I managed to get a ticket below face value from a nice vegan graphic designer from New Paltz on Craigslist. This felt like a total score since tickets were being offered for $245 on there. Thanks, nice guy!

I don’t particularly like going to concerts anymore. I know, I know, I am no fun, no fun at all. But I think my reasons are valid. I am 5’2″ and most shows I end up going to are General Admission. Here was my view for a good chunk of the night last night:

My view at Primus! YEAH!!!!

V tried to situate me so I could have the best possible view, but it’s pretty pointless. Sometimes I could see the astronauts, though, which was fun:

Primus Rothbury Music Festival 2008

Who doesn’t love a giant astronaut? I’m an American, I do.

Also, those dudes standing in front of me? They were smoking something that was neither tobacco nor weed. It smelled like rotten teeth. Meth, PCP, heroin? I don’t know, but it was disgusting and they were made into ultra-annoying concertgoers.

Also, regular smoke in the non-smoking venue. I smell gross.

Also, the drink situation. I like my drinks on the low end (cider) or the high end (martinis, Manhattans, etc). Since I don’t drink beer (my problem, I know), this is always another concert complication.

Also, the bathroom situation. The long lines and the mandatory bathroom attendant in the crappy Roseland Ballroom. I mean, really? I have to pay $1 for someone to hand me a paper towel?

Also, drinks always get spilled on me. I know that’s par for the course and maybe it was woo-hoo fun 18 but not at 31.

Also, the sweating.

But, whatever, I went anyway. I went because Primus is a Thing for V and me. It’s part of a tradition when we drive to his upstate house. It’s about a three hour trip during which we mostly agree on what to listen to, but then as we pull up his long driveway, we have to play Primus VERY loudly and if he’s driving he constantly pumps the breaks to match the bass (or is it drums?), so the car is bumpin. I love/hate it. Actually that only happens when he drives and I have driven my car every time this year. Last time, my favorite song ever, Optimistic by Radiohead, came on XM Radio. Win for me, no Primus for you!

So that’s the only reason I agreed to go. And it wasn’t the worst experience in the world. I did have to endure two sets, including the ENTIRETY of the new album. And they didn’t even play My Name is Mud. But I knew two other songs. And at one point we got to a point where we were directly to the side of the stage, so that was a pretty good view.


In other news, a dude crowd-surfed towards us (yes, that’s still a thing) but somehow the seas around us parted and he fell on top of me and V alone. V saved me from his body falling directly on my head. I fell on the ground anyway – YUCK, but poor V broke his glasses.

Broken Glasses

We both ended up on the floor, actually. I don’t even remember what happened exactly, except when I was down I was thinking “get up, get up, this is how people die”.

But all in all, it wasn’t so bad. Contrary to every other show I’ve been to recently, this crowd did not insist on recording everything on their phones. Most of the crowd was polite. A dude offered to put me on his shoulders (haha, no). And V is the best concert-going companion in terms of looking out for a lady and also teaching me about the music. I had fun practicing the drum beats I heard.. it’s something I’ve been learning about for a few months now.

And at the very end of the show, after I endured TWENTY-THREE SONGS, Les Claypool asked the audience which song they wanted to hear. It came down to an audience cheer between Tommy the Cat and Harold of the Rocks. The song V had been screaming for from the beginning won and we heard Harold.


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