Friday, January 27, 2006

superdiamond: the experience

By popular demand (yeah you, Kinz), here's a little somethin somethin about my "Surreal Neil" Superdiamond experience at The House of Blues. After the show, we almost got bitch slapped by some Lincoln Park yuppies who were pretty sure we stole their taxi and that "(tss!) the line is over there." If I hadn't been riding with someone who was slightly belligerent after a few drinks, I probably would have given up the taxi, but Megan was getting in that taxi dammit and I was following Megan.

But I've jumped way ahead to the point where I've skipped over the entire concert including the opening band "The Wedding Banned." They were a faux wedding band headed by shaggy Beatle-wigged frontman named "Captain Mantastic" who, when he passed through the crowd during a rousing rendition of "Jack & Diane," smelled of old sweaty costume. At some point, I had to purchase a $5.50 can of Bud Light (12 oz, damn those downtown prices) to get quarters in change to buy earplugs from a vending machine in the Ladies Room. I have sensitive ears and those bastards were loud.

After a way-too-long set list by "The Wedding Banned," Superdiamond hit the stage at about 10 o'clock. This show was completely sold out on The House of Blues's main stage, and played a completely sold out show the night before. The place was PACKED. You could barely move. Are people really this insane?

The lead singer sounded exactly like Neil Diamond. The lead guitarist's mutton chops were out of control. The bass player looked like the Dad on Malcolm in the Middle. There were also two keyboardists and the drummer who I'm sure had faces and hopes and dreams. Their costumes were silky and black, and the frontman "The Surreal Neal" wore a cowboy-esque shirt that made you just want to reach out and pet it and go "ooooh." Somebody tossed multiple pairs of underwear on stage, but you could tell they were all from a recently opened Target-brand variety pack o' panties. Very inauthentic. Neil Diamond would be spinning in his grave if he were dead.

So their set ends and no Sweet Caroline. But OF COURSE they would come back for an encore and appease the fans. How could they not? They'd get shanked prison-style if they didn't. In short, I'm glad I went, but seeing a Neil Diamond cover band is something I never ever have to do again. Unless it was free. Then maybe I'd consider it.