A Simple Equation
Abby Gennet + leather pants + Gibson SG = the sexiest thing on the damn planet.

And The Cogburns rocked too.
- posted by Liebs @ 11:08 PM 0 comments

 
An Important Lesson
If you’ve watched the highlights from the Mets-Padres series at Shea the last couple days, you’ve seen Padres catcher Mike Piazza get a standing ovation upon his return to New York, and then a curtain call tonight after his second home run off of Pedro Martinez. No big surprise, that’s what baseball fans do when a hero returns.

Except in Atlanta, apparently. When Tom Glavine has returned to Turner Field as a member of the Mets the last few seasons, about half the crowd loudly boos, about a quarter of the crowd does nothing (as most Braves fans normally do the rest of the time), and about a quarter of the crowd cheers (I’m guessing these are the few hardy folks who used to go to games at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium in the powder blue unis-Bob Horner era). Now, Glavine only played 16 years for the Braves, won 2 Cy Young Awards, went to 8 All-Star Games, and, oh yeah, pitched eight innings of one-hit shutout ball to clinch Atlanta’s lone World Series title in 1995 against the Cleveland Indians and was named the World Series MVP.

How can you boo him? I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Turner Field is home to the worst fans in all of baseball. Helpful hint, Braves fans: When a pitcher for your team has two strikes on a batter, you should make some noise as he enters his windup. If you’re confused by this concept, watch a game from any other ballpark in the league. Rant over.

Oh, and the Braves are now 16½ games back in the NL East.
- posted by Liebs @ 8:41 PM 0 comments

 
Muse - The Tabernacle, August 6, 2006
The last time they visited Atlanta, on the mtvU Campus Invasion Tour, Muse converted me into a true believer (yes, I’m being ironical, considering the band’s atheist views). So Sunday’s sold out show at The Tabernacle couldn’t arrive soon enough. A sweltering summer day as usual, but when the doors opened at 7 pm, the line was completely around the downtown Atlanta block – I've been to many shows at that venue, and I've rarely seen a line even reach the corner. So I was pumped that the crowd was going to be into it and it was going to top last year's show.

Unfortunately, this time it was an all-ages show, and the pampered suburban high schools were well-represented. Boo. The opening band, The Cloud Room, didn't help. The biggest crowd reaction they got was a sarcastic cheer when the lead singer announced, "This is gonna be our last song." While trying to ignore them, I got to thinking what would be an ideal opening band for Muse. The Cardigans? Zero 7? Tahiti 80? Discuss.

The roadies prepped the stage for the main event, with a large black sheet covering up something. Having seen the Knights of Cydonia video, it could've been anything under there. I was ready for a unicorn, a spaceship, a bunch of porn-mustached cowboys. Nope, just Dom's clear plastic drumkit – SWEET! Yes, I have an irrational obsession for plastic drumkits – and the video controls (I'll get to that in a moment).

It was nearly an hour between the end of The Cloud Room's set and when Muse finally took the stage, and it deflated the crowd a bit. Opening with Take A Bow didn't really get anyone pumped, but going right into Hysteria to follow set it off, the crowd surged forward, and it was on.

Only it wasn't sustained like last year, and I'm not sure why. Instead of the bright-as-fuck giant LED racks last time, it was a relatively mellow light setup, with some abstract videos projected on linen sheets hanging behind the band. Don't chill me out Muse, rock my balls off!

Supermassive Black Hole followed, and I was stoked, but few others were - I don't think too many folks in the crowd have heard the new record yet. The crowd died, much to my chagrin. Butterflies And Hurricanes brought it back a little bit, but the kids couldn't keep their energy up during the piano bits.

I was actually a little disappointed when Muse followed with the bass riff of Starlight – it's my favorite track on Black Holes And Revelations and I had imagined it as the concert-ending song to send everyone home on a high. Matt tried to get the room to clap along with Dom's snare drum beat, but aside from me and maybe 10 other folks, the crowd couldn't handle the rhythm. I know I will be extremely jealous of the festival crowds in Japan and Europe (I really really really want to be at Reading now). The energy in the room died.

It wasn't revived with Forced In, but I was surprised to hear a Hullaballoo track. Bliss, however, woke everyone up again – how could it not? But then Muse slowed it down again with Feeling Good – too soon with the mellow, dammit! Soldier's Poem was next, using the most effective visual effects of the night, a sort of seaweedish light show that oozed its way around the rim of the balcony before meandering over the crowd. Just like on the new record, Invincible was next. The CD is growing on me, but I still think Invincible is a dud. The crowd about fell asleep.

And then were roused to riot by the back to back to back onslaught of Plug In Baby (break out the sparkly guitar!), New Born, and Stockholm Syndrome. Now we're getting somewhere! The masses were seething, we were bouncing everywhere, this is what I wanted. And then they left the stage. What? Already?

The encore opened with Map Of The Problematique, and the crowd, now thirsting for more rock, lapped it up. Time Is Running Out, yes, come on dammit, keep it up. I knew what was coming. Knights Of Cydonia. It appalled me the first time I heard it on the CD, but it’s grown on me. The video puts it into context. And the crowd went absolutely bonkers – it was incredible live. The lyrics to the chorus were projected on the screens, with Matt and the rest of us wailing together, fists in the air. "No one’s going to take me alive! The time has come to make things right! You and I must fight for our rights! You and I must fight to survive!" An amazing concert moment, sweat and adrenaline and exhilaration. And bravo to Muse for getting a bunch of Red State suburban chil’rens to maybe, possibly, hopefully (but probably not, unfortunately), celebrate a chance to question authority and think for themselves. I hope the politics of the opening and closing songs weren’t lost on the crowd.

And then it was over. House lights up (including that great chandelier), good night, thanks for coming.

So, time to get critical. First, the whole set was less than 90 minutes. I know this US tour was a tuneup for the big festival dates they’re headlining the rest of the summer, but come on. Five albums of material, give me at least 2 hours of rock! And nothing off of Showbiz, not even Sunburn or Muscle Museum, that was kind of a letdown.

The crowd was a bit of a bummer. The Strokes gig a few months ago had more energy, and that just shouldn’t be. If the crowd last year was a 10, Sunday was a 6. Boo. And to all the kids who bring their digital cameras to take loads of blurry pictures and shaky videos – sit in the fucking balcony, you assbags. I didn’t come to the concert to see your arms and Muse on a 3 inch LCD screen. I thought very seriously about swiping a trio of cameras in front of me and hucking them up to the mezzanine. I didn’t, but I probably should have.

The visual effects didn’t match the intensity of the music, the only times they worked were during Soldier’s Poem and Knights Of Cydonia. I much preferred the setup last year.

But hell, I can’t deny Hysteria, Supermassive Black Hole, Butterflies And Hurricanes, Starlight, Bliss, Plug In Baby, New Born, Stockholm Syndrome, Time Is Running Out, and (surprisingly) Knights Of Cydonia, that’s a whole lot of rock for an evening. I wanted more, but I’m a greedy bastard.

I hope that Muse will be back in the US sometime next year, and with a longer setlist, that would be lovely, thank you very much. Regardless, Sunday, in an old church in the sweltering South, they certainly cemented their spot as one of the best rock bands (and maybe the best) out there.
- posted by Liebs @ 9:07 PM 0 comments

 
Well, I Did Say, "This Was Impossible"
It was certainly a disappointment, though not a shocker, to learn in the last two weeks that Floyd Landis had tested positive for a high ratio of testosterone to epitestosterone (effectively a very low amount of epitestosterone and not a high amount of testosterone, as many crap media outlets have reported), the day of his amazing breakaway stage 17 win that earned him the Tour de France victory. His incredibly poor legal team threw out a bunch of excuses and possible reasons for the result – personally, I would’ve just said, "Have you seen how hot my wife is? I need to come with the thunder every night, my friend!" But no, they trotted out explanations including drinking several shots of Jack Daniel’s the night before, and it being a natural anomaly of his system. Well, certainly the latter example was shot down when further testing (which occurs when a rider has a testosterone to epitestosterone level over 4:1), showed the presence of synthetic testosterone in his urine samples.

Now, I know several pro and semipro cyclists here in Atlanta and in Boston, and I know how prevalent drug use is on the relatively minor domestic circuit here in the U.S., so I am completely convinced that the entire professional peloton are doping. Yes, even Mr. Livestrong himself. And it’s not just cycling, every sport on earth is dirty, from baseball, football, and soccer to track and swimming. What surprises me at this point is that anyone actually gets caught. The doctors, trainers, and athletes are many steps ahead of the testing methods. So what happened to result in Landis being found guilty?

A likely reason could be the cortisone shots he has been taking for his osteonecrotic hip. Cortisone is, after all, a steroid. A synthetic steroid. Another possibility, mentioned by an in-the-know (and clean) cyclist friend is that Landis was hyperhydrated that day in the French Alps (he consumed over 70 water bottles during the six hours on the bike), which threw his whole body out of whack and caused the positive test – I’m not inclined to go with that one because Landis would’ve suffered from some of the serious side effects of hyperhydration and not finished the stage as he did.

Note that Landis had a ratio of testosterone to epitestosterone of approximately 11:1. Pretty much every human on the planet never has that ratio vary much from 1:1 – that 4:1 standard is an outrageous "acceptable" limit anyway. So something was very weird in his bloodstream. But again, the same was true for everyone else he destroyed that day. It still goes down as the most amazing day of cycling I’ve ever seen. Just with a bit of a caveat. And Floyd gets more respect from me than Mr. Livestrong. Clean or dirty, stage 17 was a brazen, jawdropping display of balls. Huge brass ones. And that’s cool with me.
- posted by Liebs @ 6:20 PM 0 comments