Tonight's show at the Fillmore sold out well in advance. When I arrived
I found myself in the company of 1,000-plus aged out-of-town
burnouts, crass groupies, nerdy couples, and in-betweens seeking
kicks and licks. Anticipation built as the opening act trudged their
way through 45 minutes of irony-lacking, contrived Hollywood
Finally, with the smell of dirt weed and cheap perfume in the air, the
lights dimmed, Kool and the Gang's "Ladies' Night" hit the speakers, and
Jesse Hughes pranced his way onto the stage like an old WIld West porn store
fantasy come to fruition. The band followed behind, in four-piece form, to the surprise of many, without Josh Homme on drums. Nonetheless, cheers and metal horns abounded. So it began.In showmanship and execution, for what it was, EODM was flawless.
Hughes strutted, preached, and wanked the crowd into a frenzy. For
well over an hour, he and his cohorts showcased greasy aptitude and
welcome amusement. It was evident that this band truly loves what it does, and least for me, that holds weight. In song selection new
material was emphasized, but the best of the old pleasers and covers
were played as well. In between tracks Hughes flirted, dished out
compliments, and tossed used combs into the audience. The girls
wanted the band and the guys wanted to be 'em. The energy and
precision, albeit ridiculous and drawn-out, never let up. When the last
distorted chord of the encore rang out to its end, my damaged brain
cells and I clumsily weaved our way to the exit feeling fouled, a bit
guilty, and oh so satisfied.
By the Way: Dear salon-cut, leather-clad Opening Band: Unless you're drinking straight from the bottle, having wine onstage is never okay.