Allow me to digress..

So this is a bit off topic, but I just happened upon the most beautiful poem to ever grace us with it's awesomeness in all of planet Earth & most of the moons of Endor. It's very Afrikaans so my neighbor-lady-person had to kind of take me step by step, but damn, I want to marry this man. Read it. Embrace it. French kiss it. Buy it a drink.

I give you Florauna by Andre Le Toit (who also happens to be Koos Kombuis, thus adding to its sheer awesomeness):

ek wil vir jou 'n gewelhuisie bou
in die boland van my hart
met 'n peerboom in die tuin
en vaatjies wyn in die kombuis
en 'n tuinhekkie met krulle
en boekrakke met sartre
ek wil vir jou 'n gewelhuisie bou
in my onderkaap van smart
met skepe in die hawe
en donssaad op die berg
en jy in lewende lywe
op die stoep, in jou kombers
in die winterboland van my hart.
jy kom van 'n groot glaskasteel
met kandelare en wolkatte
en toffies toegedraai in bordjies
en poedels op plaveisel
jy's gewoon aan kaapse weer
jou tekkies is geparfumeer
maar ek wil vir jou my lewe gee
in die wit afdophuisie van my hart

And this little bitch turned me into a blubbering idiot, frantically searching through my personal library for some kind of Jane Austen book.

Bow to Koos Kombuis all ye infidels, for he is the fat fucking poo.
That is all.

Something kind of epic

I recently had a fair bit of my brain give up on me. But apparently that's fairly normal after your first Metallica show.  

It's hard for me to describe my experience, 'cause all that comes out when I try to explain it is: "It's Metallica." But when you think about it, that's really all there is to say. There is no adjective powerful enough to describe the face melting sweat-stained abortion that went down in my limbic system when those crazy old fuckers descended upon the stage at the FNB stadium in Jozi.

After hours waiting in line (only to discover that we were, in fact, in the wrong one), bribing a security guard & almost knocking a few people the fuck out (YOU DON'T CUT IN LINE AT A METALLICA CONCERT, ARE YOU FUCKING MENTAL, THESE PEOPLE WILL CUT YOU), we finally made it to the pathetic golden circle bar. This was starting to be a not so fun day. 

First act: Chromium

Okay, so Chromium has always been one of those bands where I think they could be brilliant, but they never seem to quite cut it. They've got the talent, the following, the opportunities, but always seem to leave me a tad disappointed. Bummer.

Second act: Pestroy

One of my festival favorites, Pestroy always gets my panties in a twist. Somehow making it into the mainstream heads as well as keeping our underground metal scene solidly going. At this point, the whole 'no smoking' rule in the stadium was stabbed, buried, and we were dancing on its grave. So I was smrinking in my happy place with Pestroy as the soundtrack. My night turned right around.

By then you could kind of feel the atmosphere was changing, like we were those old school desert wanderers who could feel a sandstorm coming. Something big was coming. Metallica was fucking coming.

When the first sounds of their ever known intro started over the speakers, my brain kind of shut down. When the first crazed shout of 'Hit the Lights' hit my lights right the fuck out, I was lost. After Master of Puppets there was no more hope. They had taken my brain hostage, and it didn't want to be saved. The rest of the night was a sense-exploding blur of lights, smoke & the background music to my youth. The set list was predictable (if  you've watched every live Metallica DVD ever released she admitted guiltily) but awesome none the less. I remember feeling like I might just die right there and then when the thousands of kindred spirits behind me sang Enter Sandman almost louder than the band. That, dear deviants, is by far the coolest feeling ever. The set list pummeled forward as follows:

-Hit the Lights

-Master of Puppets

-Ride the Lightning

-Harvester of Sorrow

-Fade to Black

-The Memory Remains

-Cyanide

-Sad but True

-Welcome Home (Sanitarium)

-Orion

-One

-For Whom the Bell Tolls

-Blackened

-Nothing Else Matters

-Enter Sandman

-Creeping Death

-Battery

-Seek & Destroy

I must take a moment to say that their pyrotechnics were spot on as well. Every time Mr Hetfield yelled 'Fire' during Blackened the ensuing towers of fire that shot from the stage made me feel like I was witnessing some witchy sacrificial ritual. Fucking awesome.

Even though I miss the angst driven desperation I caught in their first few bootleg shows, these guys have got the art of performance down to a T. The show was spectacular, the atmosphere was electric & the band made the audience a part of the show, rather than performing at them. Well done ou balies, well fucking done.

I only realized how loud the show must have been when we were on our way home & my ears were less than co-operative. I was in such a bowled over state of mind, that I didn't even notice I left my bag with my camera & cellphone by the wash basins when we stopped for a quick wee at the Shell after the show. Upon realizing this, we turned back, only to find that, of course, someone had jacked it. But you know what, even though I felt suicidal the next morning, at that moment, I didn't care. I got to see Metallica live. And judging from Lars's hairline, that might not be a possibility for too many years to come. 

I, in turn, jacked a few pics from howzit.msn & Gallo Images so you could at least see a bit of what I experienced.

That's my eargasm face.

 

Photo by: Madelene Cronje (M&G)

Bottom Line: Dude, it's Metallica.