![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
HellTrek Diary, Part Six
Part six - The tale of the Baboon Boy and the half-naked Boobs.
They opened with The King For A 1000 Years, which is a pretty brave move. It opens slowly, first with just a spoken verse - which the crowd chanted along with - then Sascha and an acoustic guitar, high on a riser above the drums. Then the lights lift, and Andi becomes visible on the riser on the other side. The crowd roared to see him, and although he never dropped a note, never stopped singing, he smiled and his eyes lit up at the enthusiastic response. There’s a man who loves his job, I think.
It’s also a bloody long song, rocking in at thirteen minutes and fifty four seconds. That’s long. And it has a lot of tempo changes and the crowd knew every bloody word - me, I know most of them. Also, the enthusiasm meant that I was getting well crushed against the barrier, but as always I was loving every minute of it. Markus bounded over and gave us a grin, Sascha couldn’t take his eyes off the boobs and even Andi gave us a grin.
Before I get too distracted, here’s the setlist:
King For A 1000 Years
Eagle Fly Free
Hell Was Made In Heaven
Keeper Of The Seven Keys
A Tale That Wasn’t Right
Drum solo
Occasion Avenue
Mr Torture
If I Could Fly
Guitar solo
Power
Future World
The Invisible Man
First Encore:
Mrs God
I Want Out
Second Encore:
Dr Stein
~*~
Now, Andi. I must confess, he may not belt round the stage like Bruce, he may not dress up and perform like Till but Hell’s donkeys, he really is one of the best frontmen I’ve seen. He manages to include everyone in the crowd, somehow; make you feel as though he’s performing for you and you alone. Hell of a thing; he has this ability to pick people out the crowd and draw them in, then leave that feeling with them when he moves on. It’s pretty awesome, and the fact that Lia and I were rocking like nutters helped draw his eye.
And speaking of nutters--
One lad had asked Lia to ask me not to fling my hair about quite so much, as it had apparently been hitting him in the face during the support band’s set. I said I would try, but the look I exchanged with Lia kind of said it all; kid, this is a metal concert. Power Metal admittedly, but metal. Headbanging, yes? Good grief. He was, I might add, a terribly pretty youth with short hair perfectly arranged in artfully tousled curls, and I doubt he’d ever headbanged in his life; well boy, you want to stand behind me you’d better be ready for it - because I’ve been headbanging for a long time now, and I’m not stopping for the likes of you.
The other nutjob I had to deal with early was less pleasant. Some prick had undoubtedly come from the bar and decided he wanted to be on the front; now, I’m all for a bit of argy-bargy on the barrier and accept it can get quite hairy on there from time to time. That’s not a problem. But when somebody punches the crap out of two girls and a guy to get them to go over the barrier so he can have their place? Yeah, I have issues with that.
Bad enough he did that to the people next to me, but when he didn’t think he had enough space and started on me? Oh-ho, I don’t think so, sunshine.
He got headbutted - and tried to complain, which earnt him a snarl - tried kicking the backs of my knees, which got his toes crushed by my boots, then decided to plant his elbow in my face a few times. At this point my temper got the better of me, and I reacted in the only way I could. After all, my feet were hanging on to the floor and my hands and arms were clinging to the barrier - I was giving up my place for no bugger - which didn’t leave me many options.
And let me tell you, boys, you stick it in my face when I haven’t asked for it? I’ll bite the bugger off. You Have Been Warned.
So when the elbow headed for my face again I grabbed his arm in my teeth and I bit him just as hard as I could, hanging on until I heard him yell and felt him pull away. Funnily enough, after that he was a lamb and didn’t have any more goes at me. Can’t think why.
Further assaults were coming in from behind, with various young lads making the almost fatal assumption that as there were two girls next to each other on the barrier we would be easy to move. Just hammer ‘em and they’ll crumble. I hate this. So does Lia.
So when they leaned on my back and dug both elbows into my shoulders I just headbanged back a little further until I felt something go crunch under the back of my head and lo, the elbows lifted. I’m not mean; stop digging at me viciously and I won’t hurt you. Bruises caused by frantic leaping about I don’t mind, but bruises inflicted deliberately, after I’ve spent eight hours in the cold? Ha, don’t think so.
Another guy tried the elbow-in-the-face trick, as he was behind the guy I’d munched on and obviously thought that if he could break my nose he could have my spot. Oh dear, I thought - CRUNCH. He stopped after I’d sunk my teeth into him. Ha. And the ones who thought I’d make a nice camera stand got the idea after I nutted their cameras and did the backwards-wet-hair-flick a few times. All I want to do is watch the gig and have a good time; but be warned, if you get nasty with me I’ll get nasty back.
Lia was faring no better, most of the silly boys only seeing a very petite lady there on the barrier and probably figuring she was somebody’s girlfriend; well, put it this way. I wouldn’t mess with her. By the time we’d got rid of the nasty cases it was business as usual, and just the happy jostling that neither one of us minds - but why do you have to deal with unpleasant, violent arseholes, every time, every country, every gig?
Being a barrier rat is fun, but I’ll confess there were a couple of moments when I really did begin to wonder if I wasn’t, perhaps, getting a little long in the tooth for all this foolishness!
Anyway. By the time they’d hit the third or fourth track all was well, and the pillock next to me was really getting into it. He was also bent so far over the barrier that he wasn’t in my way and we got along just fine; however, at one point Markus threw a pick (plectrum), and it fell on the floor by my feet. I had no chance of getting it before Mister Bastard Long-Arm beside me did, so as the barrier had a gap under it I did the next best thing, and stuck my boot over it so that he couldn’t get it either.
He spent the next song beating on my boot with his fists trying to move it, but fifteen stone of Vet Nurse does not shift easily; I would have let him have it sooner, but he was a little too ready with his fists for my liking. Thank God the Boots Of Doom have such thick leather over the toes that I didn’t feel a thing, or he’d have been looking at a set of broken fingers to go with the teeth marks. I do not like boys who punch.
Ah, only one other little story to tell regarding that particular baboon; he was so into it - not that I blame him for that - that he was mimicking all of Andi’s hand actions. Andi responds well to this, as Lia can tell you; it’s a good way to catch his eye. Anyway, this guy was well into it, and I was giving him the sort of fond look one reserves for harmless dickheads and noticed that Andi had spotted it. So I leaned back a little, raised my hand behind his head and stuck my fingers up in the classic rabbit ears pose.
Andi’s face cracked into a huge smile, and he made the gesture behind his own head before chuckling and turning away to sing to somebody else. Hey, I got to make the guy look stupid - after he’d hit so many people, he deserved no less.
Ah, stories. It’s why I love being on the barrier so much; each gig breaks down into a series of stories. What each band member did, their expressions, how they responded to the crowd during a particular song - you’re close enough to see it all, feel it all and there’s no feeling quite like it.
Helloween, as a band, are incredibly playful; they seem to love what they do, and enjoy doing it together. When the crowd are also digging it and flinging themselves about they feed off that, and it makes for one hell of an atmosphere.
Markus bounds all over the stage, and will play with any member of the crowd who’s willing; he seemed to like the half-naked boobs and kept coming back for another look, another grin, another wink and then off again. At one point Andi was talking to the crowd in Spanish, its similarity to Italian meaning that they got what he was saying. I, however, didn’t have a clue so when they all roared I was left blinking rather stupidly. Markus spotted this, caught my eye and shrugged, spreading his hands in an I-have-no-idea gesture; I shrugged too, and whooshed one hand over my head, which made him laugh.
Sascha’s not averse to a nice set of boobs, either. More than once I’d look up and catch him looking; hey, I have no objections. I wouldn’t have ‘em out if I didn’t want them looked at! But at one point I was watching Markus - I think - and felt something ping off the top of my left boob; Baboon Boy next to me caught it, irritatingly, but when I looked up there was Sascha grinning his head off. He’d tried to throw it down my cleavage, and only just missed - damn, the boy has good aim!
I’ve mentioned how playful the band are - and the drum and guitar solos are great examples of this. No dull self indulgence these, no mere display of skill. But something rather different altogether...
For the drum solo, a roadie appears and assembles a tiny, child’s drumkit on top of one of the risers next to the drums - for this show, that is, I’ve seen pictures of it in various places on the stage. Then, after ‘Tale’, the band vanishes and you see Markus, folding his six-foot-five frame behind a kit that doesn’t even reach his knee. This alone would be amusing. He then proceeds to beat hell out of this teeny tiny drumkit, then stands up and bows.
The crowd, as you might imagine, go bananas.
Dani stands up behind his kit, and the pair pull faces at one another, wave their arms, wind the crowd up. Then Dani sits down and shows the audience what he can do, before standing up again and opening his arms to us, asking without words just what we thought of that, then.
Of course, we roar ourselves hoarse.
I’ll confess, I’ve seen drummers play with crowds, wind them up, entertain them - the sheer adoration that an Iron Maiden crowd has for Nicko has to be felt to be believed - but I’ve never seen a drummer actually flirt with an audience before! Dani wiggled his butt, made as if to strip (well, you can imagine what Lia and I were yelling at that point), blew kisses at us all - and then Markus would pound on the ridiculous little drumkit and reduce everyone to tears of laughter. It was, I’ll admit, one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen - and when Markus eventually loses his temper, kicks the kit to pieces and wanders off the stage (with many a rude gesture at the real drummer) it about brought the house down.
And then Dani does his drum solo. You might not be a fan of them, but oh lordy, the boy’s got talent. He also, and I have no idea who came up with the idea but it’s a stroke of genius, has a stack of mini frisbees which he proceeds to skim out into the audience while keeping up a beat you would imagine requires three arms and four legs rather than actually being made by a drummer who is in the middle of doing something else entirely.
These frisbees skim across the crowd and I have no idea how many people were crushed as their neighbours leapt up to grab them, but I’ll bet it looks as funny as hell from backstage.
Anyway, the rest of the band reappear, the crowd worship the flirtatious sticksman, and we’re off again.
Three more songs - during one of which Andi sings a couple of lines about whips and chains to my boobs. Who, me, guv? - and then everyone buggers off stage again except for Sascha. Oh my, but he’s a pretty boy - and talent out the wazoo, too. He firkles around with some clever stuff, and then a familiar figure with good legs and gorgeous hair strolls out from behind the drums, a child’s toy guitar hanging from a strap around his neck, all cabled and ready to go.
Dani, grinning like a monkey, and the crowd go nuts.
Now, apparently Weiki does Dani’s guitar part from backstage. It’s hysterical; Dani mugs and writhes, plays with this silly toy like he’s some kind of guitar God, and Sascha watches with his arms folded. Then he does something really clever and--
You get the idea. It works like a dream, and between laughing and cheering we were all hanging over the barrier limply by the time Dani went back to his drums - and he recognised us. We got our wave, and I didn’t have to throw a thing.
Then Sascha does his guitar solo proper and oh my. I’m not a fan of them, on the whole; give me a whole band rocking their nuts off and not just one lone showoff getting all wanky and self-indulgent. But even I will admit to screaming for more when he’d finished; watching him scream his way through a solo is sheer joy. He focuses so hard on what he’s doing you can feel the intensity pouring from the stage, and it’s absolutely breathtaking.
Then everybody else comes back and they swing into ‘Power’; now, for the last fifteen years they’ve done an audience singalong bit in this song. So, naturally, this tour they decide to change it, just when I’m finally there to appreciate it. Oh well. At least Andi tried to do one during the next song - ‘Future World’, one of my favourites, yes I am an old fan, get over it - and it would have worked wonderfully.
Had the PA not crapped out...
We could hear the guitars and we could hear the drums. Markus, Sascha and Weiki were at the back doing their little guitar dance, and Andi was yelling at the crowd when he suddenly realised that they were all looking at him and not shouting back....
He looked at his mic. He looked at the front row. He looked at his band, who promptly pissed themselves laughing. Back to the front row:
“Can you hear me?”
Front row shake their heads. Andi swears, goes to Sascha’s mic.
“Now can you hear me?”
Nope.
He coped brilliantly, bless him. His boys are at the back, cracking up and he’s pacing the stage, talking to those of us on the front because we were the only buggers that could hear him...
PA sorted he gets us all going again and bang, off it goes. Andi swears. Rest of band fall over they’re laughing so hard.
They did get it fixed in the end, but I must admit that between the drum and guitar solos and Andi’s aplomb under fire I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard at a gig. Damn it was fun!
And then the encores. One thing was notable; as I’ve mentioned, the crowd knew every single lyric, and roared them along cheerfully. At the end of the solo in ‘Mrs God’ there’s a weird animal noise, like a cross between a sheep and a cow noise (what is it with Helloween and weird noises on their tracks?) - and when that part of the song was reached the whole crowd made this weird bleating noise. Andi almost fell from the stage laughing and the others were little better, but never missed a note.
Ah, I’ve missed out so much - Markus’ bass slides when he holds the bass up by one hand and pulls it through, Andi mock-punching him during ‘I Want Out’, kissing him - which Lia saw framed through Sascha’s legs, although I missed being too damn busy watching same legs - Sascha’s grins, Mike’s wandering around over the stage and the faces he pulls...
I’ll never get finished if I tell all of it, so rest assured that it was a very intense show.
Oh, and when they all came out at the end Dani clocked us again, and tried to throw a stick to Lia. Unfortunately some bloke with long arms got there first; and when markus tried to throw me a pick I got buried from behind by a bazillion excitable Italian boys. I wouldn’t have minded had they not been trying to use me as a bloody springboard. They waved, and away they went.
And then it was over.
~*~
no subject
Damnit I want to see these boys. Of course, must grab me a giant guy to go along but you get the idea!
no subject
Helltrek pt 6