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Synthesis, CA
May 13 2005
System of a Down
It's the 21st century; at this very moment men are walking on the
moon, people take phone calls while on the toilet, a rocket-powered
jetpack propelled me to work this morning, and my cat has an e-mail
address. The unfortunate crapfest that was rap metal has passed.
The future is now and System of A Down's Serj Tankian's hip-hop
informed delivery and hand gestures appeal to that new generation of
music consumers, raised on hip-hop videos, mash-ups and iPods.
But it's the crushing `chugga chug waaaaa's they come for, this odd
collection of misfits: kids that should find punk, the guy playing
junior varsity football when he's a senior, fleece-vested
35-year-olds that are still `cool,' museum-quality heshers with
broken-in leathers, comic book store owners, flag-waving Armenians
and the round girls in scant Hot Topic skirts.
The Fillmore show, according to the bootleg shirts hawked outside,
was `Sould Out.' Reliable sources (in this case a beer breathed,
A-Shirt wearing, blurry wizard tattoo-having, scraggly goatee dude in
line in front of me) told this reporter the tickets, available only
from the Fillmore box office, sold out as fast as the Fillmore could
move the line. Some System faithfuls dropped upwards of $200 to see
their Armenian rock deities.
System of A Down, on a week-long mini-tour warming up for the release
of Mesmerize on May 17th, powered through their Fillmore show, rarely
stopping to chat during their 90-minute set. Being a warm-up show,
System kept the production values lean. With the exception of a
strobe light rig blasting into the audience, System relied on the
Fillmore's stock lighting rig.
They debuted a mere three new songs in a 24-song set of sweaty
time-signature changing metal, the most notable being the catchy and
political `BYOB.' Tankian's warm chestnut voice is back, and he
maintains his tradition of politically colored lyrics, like
`Everybody is going to the party/Have a real good time/Dancing in the
desert/Blowing up the sunshine.' This ain't about Burning Man. I know
this because at the end of the song, guitarist Daron Malakian screams
in chipmunk-monster voice `Why don't presidents fight the war?/Why do
they always send the poor?'
System of a Down specializes in a kind of thundering dirge-rhythm
that compels A-shirt wearers to slow-walk the pit's perimeter,
filling their burning chests with humid, secondhand pot smoke laden
air, feeling beer-soaked blood thump in their temples, and then
erupting into a mass of damp slamming bodies when the strobe lights
start blasting.
I don't care who's on stage, it's always invigorating to see a giant
roomful of fists pump in the air, or feel the second story dance
floor flex under 1200 pogo-ing bodies.
If I were a mean, old, intellectually superior rock critic guy, I'd
say System of a Down is like Primus or Mr. Bungle for retards. I
might also mention, to let you know that I have the most refined
taste, I don't like Primus or Mr. Bungle. But that's not me. I love
everyone and everything. So check it: System of a Down live, if
that's your bag, delivers; and the three new songs they played at the
Fillmore won't disappoint an ardent System fan.
- Words and Photos by Pete Geniella (www.petegeniella.com)
May 13 2005
System of a Down
It's the 21st century; at this very moment men are walking on the
moon, people take phone calls while on the toilet, a rocket-powered
jetpack propelled me to work this morning, and my cat has an e-mail
address. The unfortunate crapfest that was rap metal has passed.
The future is now and System of A Down's Serj Tankian's hip-hop
informed delivery and hand gestures appeal to that new generation of
music consumers, raised on hip-hop videos, mash-ups and iPods.
But it's the crushing `chugga chug waaaaa's they come for, this odd
collection of misfits: kids that should find punk, the guy playing
junior varsity football when he's a senior, fleece-vested
35-year-olds that are still `cool,' museum-quality heshers with
broken-in leathers, comic book store owners, flag-waving Armenians
and the round girls in scant Hot Topic skirts.
The Fillmore show, according to the bootleg shirts hawked outside,
was `Sould Out.' Reliable sources (in this case a beer breathed,
A-Shirt wearing, blurry wizard tattoo-having, scraggly goatee dude in
line in front of me) told this reporter the tickets, available only
from the Fillmore box office, sold out as fast as the Fillmore could
move the line. Some System faithfuls dropped upwards of $200 to see
their Armenian rock deities.
System of A Down, on a week-long mini-tour warming up for the release
of Mesmerize on May 17th, powered through their Fillmore show, rarely
stopping to chat during their 90-minute set. Being a warm-up show,
System kept the production values lean. With the exception of a
strobe light rig blasting into the audience, System relied on the
Fillmore's stock lighting rig.
They debuted a mere three new songs in a 24-song set of sweaty
time-signature changing metal, the most notable being the catchy and
political `BYOB.' Tankian's warm chestnut voice is back, and he
maintains his tradition of politically colored lyrics, like
`Everybody is going to the party/Have a real good time/Dancing in the
desert/Blowing up the sunshine.' This ain't about Burning Man. I know
this because at the end of the song, guitarist Daron Malakian screams
in chipmunk-monster voice `Why don't presidents fight the war?/Why do
they always send the poor?'
System of a Down specializes in a kind of thundering dirge-rhythm
that compels A-shirt wearers to slow-walk the pit's perimeter,
filling their burning chests with humid, secondhand pot smoke laden
air, feeling beer-soaked blood thump in their temples, and then
erupting into a mass of damp slamming bodies when the strobe lights
start blasting.
I don't care who's on stage, it's always invigorating to see a giant
roomful of fists pump in the air, or feel the second story dance
floor flex under 1200 pogo-ing bodies.
If I were a mean, old, intellectually superior rock critic guy, I'd
say System of a Down is like Primus or Mr. Bungle for retards. I
might also mention, to let you know that I have the most refined
taste, I don't like Primus or Mr. Bungle. But that's not me. I love
everyone and everything. So check it: System of a Down live, if
that's your bag, delivers; and the three new songs they played at the
Fillmore won't disappoint an ardent System fan.
- Words and Photos by Pete Geniella (www.petegeniella.com)