The Zutons electrify the Electric Factory
Great music, unfair treatment as openers
Aaron Sakulich
Issue date: 11/12/04 Section: Entertainment
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Friends, I've got a funny feeling like I've never had a runnin' through my head. Yes, I've got the feeling that's the best, I've got that Zuton fever in my head. For this reason I traveled to the distant Electric Factory to see the Zutons put on a show. Like all shows, it had its defining moments.
First, I was overwhelmed by bitter rage when I arrived and saw the sign. For some reason the Zutons' name was in a smaller font than that of the other band playing that night, Muse. Let me be absolutely clear about this: the fact that the Zutons were opening for some other band rather than having some other band open for them is a downright dirty crime. I felt like Superman watching a mugging while Lex Luthor held him captive in a jail made of Kryptonite: there was nothing I could do about it, and the sheer wrongness of the situation was nothing less than infuriating.
So I said to myself, self, some people just don't know quality when they see it. Just let it ride and groove on inside. I grooved into the Electric Factory thusly and got the second surprise of the night: it's a lot larger than I remembered it. I haven't been there since sophomore year when I went to see They Might Be Giants, but I had always remembered it sort of the same way I remember the Trocadero: small and utilitarian. The Electric Factory is a downright enormous venue, though, so my memory must be wrong. Such is life. They've got speakers there that are easily ten feet wide and two stories tall; mark them well, for they come back a little later in this review.
The third of the surprises, which were coming hard and fast like a minigun firing bullets of my own slack-jawedness, was that the Electric Factory sells food at reasonable prices. I got a tub of nachos for $3.50 that would have cost about one billion dollars at any other venue or a solid gold melon at a ballpark. So there I am, standing in the back, in the dark, trying to keep my distance from the rest of the crowd, eating a nice fat pile of nachos. The reason I was trying to keep my distance from the rest of the crowd is that apparently Muse fans are all pale high school kids wearing metal-studded wristbands making out with their equally pale girlfriends under the stairs. In them, I saw a bit of the youth I once was, and it was like staring into an abyss of insanity.
First, I was overwhelmed by bitter rage when I arrived and saw the sign. For some reason the Zutons' name was in a smaller font than that of the other band playing that night, Muse. Let me be absolutely clear about this: the fact that the Zutons were opening for some other band rather than having some other band open for them is a downright dirty crime. I felt like Superman watching a mugging while Lex Luthor held him captive in a jail made of Kryptonite: there was nothing I could do about it, and the sheer wrongness of the situation was nothing less than infuriating.
So I said to myself, self, some people just don't know quality when they see it. Just let it ride and groove on inside. I grooved into the Electric Factory thusly and got the second surprise of the night: it's a lot larger than I remembered it. I haven't been there since sophomore year when I went to see They Might Be Giants, but I had always remembered it sort of the same way I remember the Trocadero: small and utilitarian. The Electric Factory is a downright enormous venue, though, so my memory must be wrong. Such is life. They've got speakers there that are easily ten feet wide and two stories tall; mark them well, for they come back a little later in this review.
The third of the surprises, which were coming hard and fast like a minigun firing bullets of my own slack-jawedness, was that the Electric Factory sells food at reasonable prices. I got a tub of nachos for $3.50 that would have cost about one billion dollars at any other venue or a solid gold melon at a ballpark. So there I am, standing in the back, in the dark, trying to keep my distance from the rest of the crowd, eating a nice fat pile of nachos. The reason I was trying to keep my distance from the rest of the crowd is that apparently Muse fans are all pale high school kids wearing metal-studded wristbands making out with their equally pale girlfriends under the stairs. In them, I saw a bit of the youth I once was, and it was like staring into an abyss of insanity.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
netzard
netzard
posted 11/13/04 @ 9:18 PM EST
Wow. You actually got a chance to see Muse, and you walked out in disgust without hearing a note. I can't believe it. You are a fool, Aaron.
Please do yourself a favor and never again judge a band solely by their audience. (Continued…)
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