Why They Call Me Mr. Happy
Back to the Triple Rock for NoMeansNo last night. The evening started out right where my last venture to the Triple Rock left off – with violence! As I walked up to the club around 8pm there were two ambulances outside and a fire truck. An employee from the club had a bucket of boiling water that he was pouring all over the sidewalk to try and erase the blood that had been spilled. The only information people would divulge was there had been an ‘altercation’ moments before. Right then I knew that the night was ripe for good things.
Can I say a few words about seeing NoMeansNo live? Simply amazing. Total presence. Total Joy. For three guys who have to be pushing 50 they lay down a rock n’ roll lesson plan of pure punk rock pedagogy. For any rock bands out there, NoMeansNo have set the bar from which you must try and and reach.
There was a great vibe in the crowd last night. Band was feeding off the crowd and vis-a-versa. Double encores that included a Clash cover, “I’m so bored with the USA” (very appropriate coming from a Canadian band) and a ripping cover of AC/DC’s “Shot Down in Flames“. Brilliant.
After the show people were wandering about outside with dumbstruck smiles – searching for words to explain what they had just witnessed. There’s something about watching a band that’s made up of three guys who look like they could be your father completely and mercilessly pummel you with their elderly seniority. It makes you pause and question your own youth and the milestones you have achieved.
Still outside the club, the craziness ensued. One gentleman, who had completely lost it after having his bowels farmed by the Canadian sonic superpower had lost all his wits and was running around attacking people in a jovial yet off-putting manner. I though I had escaped his presence while walking to the car but before I even knew what hit me this guy had sprinted toward me, yelled something about my “blue” t-shirt and then jumped on my back like he was a human backpack. I struggled to free myself but he had a firm grip and I didn’t want to retaliate too strongly. He kept yelling, “I want to bite your ass!” over and over again. Finally, I was able to remove the plastered parasite with the help of some of his friends who were doing their best to try and contain his manic molestations. I wanted to say, “Sir, what part of No Means No do you not understand?”. God damn, another fine night at the Triple Rock!
NoMeansNo photo lifted from here.