After midnight, were gonna let it all hang down.
After midnight, were gonna chug-a-lug and shout.
Were gonna stimulate some action;
Were gonna get some satisfaction.
Were gonna find out what it is all about.
After midnight, were gonna let it all hang down.
I’ll probably go to Music Hell for quoting J.J. Cale in a Rocklahoma blog post, but the lyrics seemed to fit the mood.
So, yeah, here we are: it’s getting later, the crowd’s getting drunker, and RATT and Poison will close out the first full day of Rocklahoma (yes, there were some bands on Thursday, but (1) the biggest name was a KISS tribute band and (2) we were still in Texas).
RATT was impressive. Stephen Pearcy’s voice isn’t quite what it used to be but these guys can play the hell outta their catalog. I’m not one to keep a set list of what a band is playing, but they played everything I wanted to here. “Wanted Man” was a highlight. Mainly, they were very full of energy. A few shots from their set:
The big surprise at the end of RATT’s set was the announcement of “John Corabi on rhythm guitar.” I realized at that point that I wasn’t sure if Juan Crocier or Not-Juan-Crocier played bass, but I was psyched that Corabi’s found some work (I was a fan of The Scream, but wasn’t thrilled with him taking Vince Neil’s spot in Motley Crue). I didn’t get a decent photo of Corabi, but here’s half of him with Warren DeMartini:
By this time it was pretty late, though I have no idea exactly what time it was. We’d all been awake since 4 or 5 that morning, prepping for the 8-hour drive from Austin to Pryor. ENatFlow and Sister Darkness were fading pretty fast and left just after RATT finished, with the goal of setting up the beds and then coming back for Poison. They never made it back. No amazing story of hijinx, they just fell asleep.
The Bone and I were wiped out, too, but friggin’ POISON was about to take the stage. And RockaRolla, well, she was doin’ fine. A visual recap:
Poison.
I’d seen them about 10 years ago in San Antonio on somewhat of a lark. At that time, my expectations were just to hear some songs from my childhood. What I saw then was that these guys still entertain the HELL out of a crowd. For that reason, I had a feeling we were about to see a great show. I was right. Again, I wasn’t scribbling down a set list but they tore through everything that the rest of the crowd and I wanted to hear.
Visual interlude:
What was becoming a great set suddenly stopped when CC Deville took center stage to sing a song he wrote. It’s apparently in his contract or something that he gets to do one song. I’d heard about it, but forgotten, and was now going to experience first-hand his masterpiece, “I Hate Every Bone In Your Body But Mine.” Yeah, you read that correctly. It was terrible. Rikki and Bobby looked physically pained as they played it, Bret left the stage, but CC…CC was on top of the world, singing a very, very bad song, and not even singing it well. In fact, he looked moderately confused, himself:
Oh, and Bobby Dall was there. Clean. Even conscious:
When that was over and the crowd came back from a collective 30,000-person bathroom & food break, Bret went into a big schpiel about the military and how Poison supports our troops. They then brought up several soldiers in fatigues and dress-blues for an extended version of “Something To Believe In.” I never really liked the song that much but it was certainly a crowd pleaser:
Although the other three members looked relatively healthy and happy, Rikki Rockett looked a bit like post-Culture-Club Boy George:
And when in the South(ish), it never hurts to slap a NASCAR sticker on your guitar:
Poison encored with “Talk Dirty To Me,” which was a great experience. The crowd was feelin’ good and havin’ fun, the band seemed to truly enjoy the setting. All that was Day 1 of our Rocklahoma experience had come to a close…
…or so I’d thought.
The Bone had left about 1/2-hour before Poison’s set ended, complaining of a bum contact lens. When I arrived at camp, however, I found him still sitting in a chair outside our tent, nearing a state of sleep. When I asked him why he wasn’t sleeping inside the tent, he replied, “I couldn’t get it open.” I laughed, but understood that a lack of sleep, many beers, and blurred vision could combine to cause such confusion. So I walk over to the tent and…and…and…couldn’t find the damned zippers to open the doors.
We didn’t want to awaken Sister Darkness, but in the poorly lit campsite we could only see that there was one body on each side of the tent, both with long dark hair…we couldn’t tell who was who! We woke up both of them, caused about as much trouble and disturbance as was possible, and turned in for the night amidst the smells of sweat, campfires, and beer.
– El Coyote
Stay tuned for Day 2, which includes Faster Pussycat, strains of Bullet Boys from camp, Firehouse (surprise winner of our group’s personal Best-In-Show), Skid Row, Winger (and why I now think they’re better technical players than Rush), Dokken, and assorted stories of tattoos, bikinis, breakfast lost and breakfast found, and much more.
