Strictly Fiction

I found Jesus on the back of a $5 bill. I was taking money from the till, a farewell lump sum of $100 that I felt I deserved for all the hard work I had put in at that hopeless hole in the ground. They’d be looking for me, but as law goes, $100 is the least of the government’s or local police’s worries. I was counting the bills out, one by one. I wanted to slowly taste the thievery between my fingers. The stale paper and pot smell of an elderly man’s ash tray, the soggy bill of a teenage boy, the crisp tenner of an anal 40 year-old woman. I felt the money’s previous owner trickle on my skin, their life as it was before they started recklessly spending. Now, their lost hope was my given light. On the back of a Lincoln, in blue pen, the words “Jesus Saves” were hurriedly scrawled over dearest Abraham’s face. This bill would get me most of the way through the Garden State Interstate. Another $10 would get me across the George Washington, and another $2.50 would get me from the Mass Pike to Boston. Abraham was giving me freedom. I would make it to the Prudential with a mass of stolen money, and using the power of Abraham Lincoln, I would make it over the edge of New England’s tallest building and tumble to my fate. I would meet God. A stairway to heaven is rising from Boston to the sky. $5 bills never lie.

Knights of Bostonia

Radiohead would be jealous of such a get up. Sitting in Loge 3 as an onlooker to the pit and stage, curiousness comes over your mind as to what three giant columns could be used for. Anchored to the stage were several oversized pillars covered in an industrial looking fabric, a set of stairs obviously crawling up the inside of each. At the TD Garden in Boston, Massachusetts, fans were posted in the seats directly behind the obnoxiously large stands, obviously the suckers who bought the “obstructed view” tickets at full price. The crowd was wrapped around the entirety of the stage either because of the greed of the Garden’s promoters or because there was something bigger to come. At any regular show, eye catching backdrops and stage equipment would block the view of these ticket holders, a pricey $75 a pop used to stare at cables and roadies. While Muse’s media manager Tom Kirk is quite the show in himself, the loyal fans were mostly there to witness the rare New England performance rather than the scurrying of techies and stage hands. With a capacity of just over 18,000, the Bruins hockey rink and Celtics court turned massive concert arena was a little breath taking, especially to someone so used to the dingy club circuit of Providence and Hartford. It was a crowd stacked straight up, reaching out of the pit and circular stage. General Admission ticket holders were crazily waiting as early as 9 A.M. so as to get the perfect spot, some already drunk that morning and circling the half venue, half train station yelling “Bring your own Muse!” It was obvious that the band’s visit was long overdue.

With North Station bursting at the seams with anxious attendees, the doors opened to a welcoming committee of the Silversun Pickups. Since Swoon’s acclaimed success, the Pickups have risen past dead beat clubs to an opening slot on a widely sold out tour. Late night placement on Fuse’s No. 1 Countdown had gotten them this far: a venue large enough to hold even the masterpieces of Bruce Springsteen and Pearl Jam. But it wasn’t only them feeling the success. Muse, having been starlets in Europe and other countries across the world for years now, was finally starting to see some form of response from the frontier of American music. More than just the indie fans were falling for them. After 2007’s Black Holes & Revelations, the single “Knights of Cydonia” began getting some airplay on radio stations across the U.S. along with the fellow single “Starlight” (both stealing Top 10 positions on the Billboard charts). The last America had heard from these boys was an opening slot on U2’s fall North America 2009 tour and a quick jaunt opening for My Chemical Romance and their thousands of screaming teenage fans. Now, after months of “Uprising” getting loads of airplay where it’s almost sickening and “Supermassive Black Hole” hitting the ball out of the park on the Twilight soundtrack, Muse came to the States greeted by an army of open arms. And it was obvious that the Boston crowd was filled with a frenzy of fanatic followers.

As the pit closed in tighter and the lights dimmed, the Silversun Pickups opened with a crashing “Growing Old Is Getting Old” and chugged on with heavy, college rock riffs. Lead singer and guitarist Brian Aubert sang in perfect harmony with his bass playing counterpart Nikki Monninger backing him throughout the entirety of the 50 minute set. “Panic Switch” was, by far, the obvious crowd favorite. A prog rock, indie anthem, “Panic Switch” churned and scratched from the sound system as Aubert voiced the story of a mental meltdown in an almost woman-esque voice. Following was a strong closer of “Lazy Eye” with an extended guitar solo that sent the crowd into overdrive and overwhelming ecstasy as the Muse technical crew began their ascent on the three pillars.

It wasn’t long after the Silversun Pickups left behind the gargantuan stage set up that the venue was screaming and hollering at the dimming lights. The three colossal columns were lit up with the image of men walking up and down stairs, all falling over like dominos as the band began to take control of the Boston scene. With a splash of red light and the final fall of a computerized body, the lot of TD Garden shook with the opening synths of “Uprising”, Dominic Howard’s (drummer and band’s prized bachelor) drapery getting snagged as the band’s pillars were uncovered. Howard and fellow band members Matt Bellamy (sole guitarist and singer) and Chris Wolstenholme (bass player and backing vocals) were revealed standing on huge cubic screens, another hanging over each musician. The spacey, futuristic screens reflected at the audience images of the band and other fantastically portrayed images of song lyrics or even during “United States of Eurasia” Barrack Obama himself.

As one of the most technologically advanced bands out there today, it wasn’t surprising to see Muse showcasing the flashy, and not mention expensive, get up. Radiohead couldn’t even touch this. After years of being compared with the Tom Yorke fronted band, it was obvious that Muse is a monster of its own. The 2008 DVD H.A.A.R.P., the live release cleverly named after the conspiratorial Alaskan project, was recorded at the 2007 Wembley Arena shows in London that gauged at a cumulative gathering of 180,000 fans. Seeing H.A.A.R.P. doesn’t even compare to the live show itself. It takes being there to know that this act is here to stay. The pillars rose and descended on the stage, always showcasing either the band’s musical talents or a spectacle for those seated all the way at the back of the expansive arena. Green lasers shown on the crowd, creating a snowflake effect on the faces of viewers, but an intricate and beautiful laser show for those looking at the stage straight on, “New Born” being the most criminal for these algae-hued lights. The General Admission crew got riled up during the 2001 fan favorite “Plug In Baby”, a catchy tune that is nearly impossible for any Muse fan to hate. Eyeball balloons fell from the roof onto the crowd, bouncing around like alien crowd surfers letting us know that they were indeed watching our every move. “Supermassive Black Hole” coaxed every self-proclaimed Cougar from their collagen shells for a grinding fest just to be met by another rave worthy, dance tune “Time Is Running Out”. Mom and Dad, dance music no longer involves disco balls and cheesy beats. Buzzing riffs and jazz centered drumming leading straight into head banging choruses got every attendee antsy in the feet.

A more than noisy encore of whoops and hollers from dedicated fans submerged Boston into a serious, heart rendering “Exogenesis (Overture)” with Howard standing in on the Timpani drums, the air filled with an elusive grandeur. The encore crashed along, almost sadly, straight through cult adored “Stockholm Syndrome” (minus the band tearing apart the stage) into the final “Knights of Cydonia”, Wolstenholme leading the Western-Alter Universe metal anthem with an O Brother, Where Art Thou? reminiscent harmonica solo. The last hints of “No one’s going to take me alive” echoed through the building and onto the streets, stretching from Quincy Market and onwards, as the frantic crowd filed one after the other through the Boston PD littered avenues. A small crowd was welling up by the tour bus gate and punters sold “Muse: Knights of Bostonia” shirts at the intersections. The inhumanly sized tour poster outside TD Garden was now more than a tick mark to remember the date, but now a landmark for something amazing that had happened at that very plot. Somewhere above North Station babies were conceived to the groove and kid’s lives were changed, temporarily or permanent was not a choice. These people would go the rest of their lives always remembering the night that Muse touched a part of their souls where God is normally supposed to. Arguments about Muse’s performance only being based on visual enterprises can quickly be dismantled by the onslaught of anti-cliché guitar, drum, piano, and bass solos and art rock anthems. Above North Station, Boston history was made. Enough where Radiohead and Paul Revere can be jealous of the stolen glory. The British are coming, but this time, we will not fight it.

Setlist:
1. Uprising
2. Resistance
3. New Born
4. Map of the Problematique
5. Supermassive Black Hole
6. Guiding Light
7. Interlude + Hysteria
8. Nishe
9. United States of Eurasia
10. Take a Bow intro + Feeling Good
11. Helsinki Jam
12. Undisclosed Desires
13. Starlight
14. Plug In Baby
15. Time Is Running Out
16. Unnatural Selection
Encore
17. Exogenesis: Symphony Part I (Overture)
18. Stockholm Syndrome
19. Knights of Cydonia