On this day I didn’t pick-up my camera ’til about lunch time. However, a great deal happened during those hours that ENatFlow’s blog captures as accurately and wonderfully as it could possibly be re-told. You should definitely read it, if for no other reason than the account of the breakfast we didn’t eat.
A decision was made to skip the Bullet Boys’ set, because (1) it was hot, (2) we (and by “we” I mean The Bone & I) were still re-hydrating, and (3) after the breakfast incident, preparing lunch jumped higher on the priority list. I did, however, take a walk toward the stage and heard several choruses from “For the Love of Money.” The Bullet Boys sounded alright…just not better than the taste of the burgers we were about to have back at camp. Said burgers featured the largest tomato I’ve ever seen:
The damn thing, as you can see, was friggin’ enormous…even with some of the bottom cut-off, it stands nearly as tall as a koozied beer can, and was damn near as big around as my face. It also happened to be among the most flavorful tomatoes any of us had ever eaten. Sherman, Texas, you grow some fabulous friggin’ tomatoes!
No one else was really interested in seeing Taime Down’s version of Faster Pussycat (and if you don’t know, yes, that is pronounced tie me down…witty glam-era name, huh?). Long story short: band break-up yielded two Faster Pussycat incarnations touring simultaneously. One edition is more poppy/glam-ish and this edition is a more goth-ish rendition of their 80’s selves. What is gothish glam, you ask? Well, if Taime Down’s performance represents that sub-genre accurately, gothish glam is one of the worst concepts in the history of music.
Taime looked hideous, sounded worse, and at one point he went so far as to say, regarding his former bandmate Brent Muscat, “I wish the cancer Brent had would have killed him.” The until-then feisty afternoon Rocklahoma crowd was sorta stunned. There were gasps, a few boos, but mostly just a few thousand folks wishing Taime would just not suck so bad at singing his own band’s songs. I liken Taime’s presence and appearance to a mutant offspring of Marilyn Manson, Frankenstein’s monster, Boy George, William Hung, and Patty & Selma Bouvier:
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The next photo, of Taime’s butt, features a kilt-looking thing being sold at the merch booths that read “Pussy Power.” Price tag for one of those babies? $55.
Faster Pussycat’s guitarist did a decent rock guitar pose, for whatever that was worth:
But it was all about Taime…and it was getting worse. He shed his hat, lit a cigarette, wiped some pasty sweat-goo from his forehead (I literally heard several people utter, “Ew”), and struggled through a terrible rendition of their hit ballad, “House of Pain.” It had been a decent, gritty ballad at the time, but today the song was utterly destroyed. On the upside, Taime admitted they sounded “a bit rusty” and “I know most of you didn’t come to see us, but we appreciate you being here during our set anyway.” What a guy. More:
But Faster Pussycat’s set was about to get worse (much worse, even) with the performance of their latest album’s title track, “Glory Hole.” Yes, glory hole. It featured an audience sing-a-long. Yeah, a bunch of folks at about 1:00PM or so were truly into singing the words:
Your lips take control,
Here lies the power of the glory hole
The drummer really seemed to like that song, though:
If you can imagine, I went ahead and left this set a bit early. I remained this long just as a person waits around to watch a train wreck. Upon my return to camp there was still lunch to be eaten (again, covered very well in ENatFlow’s blog) and an ensuing fashion show would take place. Yes, ENatFlow decided to go through my stash of junior high and high school concert t-shirts to find his attire for the rest of the day.
It’s worth noting that (to our collective delight) ENatFlow was actually enjoying Rocklahoma. It wasn’t just the primo people-watching (that was a given) or the music (I think he appreciated it more than anticipated). Nope, I truly think he began to enjoy the sheer joie de vivre felt by all in attendance.
But back to said fashion show…
Shirt #1: Purchased at Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet tour stop in El Paso, circa 1987. I modified it as any wannabe/poseur rocker of the day would have. NOTE: The back reads, “BON JOVI ROCKS YOUR ASS OFF” Oh, those hardcore New Jerseyans.
Shirt #2: Purchased at the Motley Crue/Whitesnake El Paso tour date, the Crue supporting Girls, Girls, Girls. We stopped the fashion show at this point because, clearly, he’d found the perfect shirt:
With the meals prepped/lost/recreated and eaten, the day’s wardrobe chosen, and Taime gone, we embarked (smuggled beers aplenty in-tow) toward the festival gates eager for an afternoon and evening of Firehouse, Warrant, Skid Row, Winger, Dokken, and Vince Neil. This line-up would prove to surprise, disgust, energize, impress, humor, and RAWK us like we’d never been rawked before.*
* Not every member of our group had previously been “rawked” before this date.
