Reader Request: Aural Torture
April 9th, 2008 - by Eddie
It’s been commonly reported that the military and creative fathers have been using certain types of music to either get people out of a building or to torture them through sound. In Iraq, I think they (and by “they” I mean “us) Britney Spears and heavy metal. When I was a kid, my dad used a recording of preschool kids singing the alphabet song, all in a different key and time.
Then, on the way home from work today, I was listening to the Red Sox Home Opener and a commercial came on talking about Gloria Estefan coming to a nearby casino. The announcer kept yelling “Gloria Estefan live!” over and over again, so much so that I was almost brought back to that same fetal position years ago when those damn kids sputtered through “l-m-n-o-p” repeatedly.
What’s your version of a personal aural hell? What concert will be waiting for you in hell when you finally light that massive bag of crap on your boss’ porch?
Here’s mine.
Opening act: Hinder
Transitional act: Creed
Main act: Fergie singing “Big Girls Don’t Cry” while peeing on everyone.
So what’s your personal hell?
April 9th, 2008 at 7:27 pm
I second that Fergie would be part of my personal hell…. the second layer of hell would consist of Imogen Heap singing round after round of Hide and Seek!
April 13th, 2008 at 3:15 pm
I’ve already been to music hell. And through what must have been some sort of divine intervention, I lived to tell about it.
Angels and Airwaves, that unholy combination of the worsts parts of Blink 182, Boxcar Racer and Offspring,was the featured act.
Why would I subject myself to such torture you ask? Because it was my job. I used to work as a security guard at State College’s Bryce Jordon Center. I would stand up front, my back inches from the stage, to help crowd surfers down.
So there I was, in an arena full of adolescent girls, cringing and trying to plug my ears as Tom DeLonge pretentiously babbled hokey love swill between unbelievably corny songs to the shrieking delight of all those little emo twerps. This was a two-hour preview of what likely awaits me in the afterlife.
April 14th, 2008 at 11:51 pm
I just started writing for 52 Shows today, in fact. I was asked to recount my first concert experience. I dodged that question like an oncoming city bus. I’ll tell now. I am so, so sorry to say that this was the line up
Fuel
Marcy Playground (of “Sex & Candy” fame. Fame?)
And headlining…Get ready…
The Goo Goo Dolls.
No bullshit. First concert ever. I grew up on Primus and Faith No More, which is what I tried to recall while I was at that show, in that field in New Hampshire with my brother, throwing up in my mouth.
So there it is. Not only did I brave hell, I did it at age 13 and I never let it taint my view of live concerts. I’m a hero to myself for that.