Paul Alamo: Letter to the group of guys behind me Thursday night at the St. Louis Wilco concert
I know. I know you love Wilco. I know you adore them with all your being. How do I know? You repeatedly and loudly expressed how "awesome" they were and how Jeff Tweedy is "the man" the entire night. And that's fine, really. I'm a Wilco fan myself and was happy to be around other fans. I'm not sure if it was necessary to say those things every few seconds. But trust me, the point was taken. You guys really love Wilco.
I also know that you know all of their lyrics. You clearly sang them all night between moments of re-confirming your love for them. And what impressed me is that you didn't let up. Not even during the quieter tunes when your off-key drunken singing was clear as a bell.
I was also impressed by how you guys had memorized every drum fill and guitar solo. I've heard a lot of guys vocalize guitar solos, but drum fills? On every song? That was impressive. I also enjoyed announcing the arrival of said guitar solos and drum fills seconds before they occurred with a "Here it comes dude!" This was followed by a note for note loud vocal rendering. Often times one of you was screaming out the guitar solo while the other was mashing your hands in the air screaming out the drum fills. Not bad.
It became clear to me during the 6th song that you guys pretty much had every tune covered. When you weren't singing along, screaming out the guitar solos or drum fills you were arguing about who loved Wilco more. It seemed like an argument none of you could win. I'll call it for you: You all love Wilco the exact same amount. You're welcome.
While I admire your dedication to Wilco I do have a couple of questions that have been perplexing me:
1. When you pay 30 dollars for a ticket, don't you want to hear the band?
2. Don't you ever get tired of NOT SHUTTING THE FUCK UP?
I appreciate your help into getting to the bottom of these questions. And while I'm tempted to say that you soured my concert experience I am willing to consider that instead you enriched it with your terrible singing, never ending arguments and douche bag instrument mimicry. Thank you.
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That is reason #12 as to why I love mosh pits. If there is an asswipe near you, the easiest solution is to slam them in the chest with the intent of taking them off their feet or elbow them in the head from any angle and look like you are going to kill them. 9 times out of 10 they move on. That 1 time every so often... It is like magic, you have found a new friend, born of violence, and you proceed to demolish the rest of the pit.
You should have thrown them into shit water.
It reminds me of the time I went to see Cake years ago. People kept asking me to move over because they couldn't see. After the first time I was compassionate. After all, these concert-goers were pussies and they probably aren't used to reality.
The second time, another couple asked me to move over. At that point, I just told both couples that they are welcome to stand in front of me, otherwise fuck off. They went with option #2.
There it is Cake fans... Reality.
Maybe you should sing too? Chicken.
I had a Wilco concert in my pants last night.