I was there.... it was rad.. they played Weed Plant.
New album coming out.. confirmed..
Didn't meet anyone from the list there...
Now im going to Santa Barbra.
Peace

Driving down Sunset, listening to KFWB. In 48 hours Gene Siskel will pass from the Earth, but there's no hint of it tonight. I'm with my friend Dorian. This will be his first show. We stop for food, and circle the street hunting for parking. We drive past the Whisky, where young Jason Schwartzman, the star of the motion picture "Rushmore", and his band Phantom Planet are playing. Jason is extensively interviewed on KROQ that morning, and of course, no mention is made of the 'Bone. Phantom Planet is opening for Polar Bear, Stephen Perkins new outfit, and the line is forty people out the door. 

Even more impressive is the line at the Roxy, where La Familia is solo billed for the evening. There are two blocks of people lined up along Sunset. 

At the Key Club, there is a small crowd loosely gathered outside the new facade of the building. The Key Club used to be Billboard Live and had not done much on the exterior to distinguish itself from the previous tenants, but now it looks like a piece of a Ridley Scott movie. We park and head over, purchasing our tickets at the door for fifteen bones each. 

It's about 9:10 p.m. and Dial 7 is onstage. They had a sizable group on the dance floor, mildly whipped up. Dial 7 is ska, funk, rap and dub neatened up into a deft display. If anything, their only weak spot might be the drummer who tended to be less experimental than the bassist. Electric guitar in the style of John F. from the Chili's with some metallic chops on the side. Two singers switching the lead from melody to rap to toasting. And a kick drum that shook the olive in my drink. I swear to God, for the whole night the Key Club was blowing the biggest kick bass I've ever heard in a club this size. Dial 7 ended the set with profuse props to Fishbone and two tunes designed to engage their hardcore fans in the crowd. Set ends, here comes Fishbone's tech guys, everyone's happy. 

The venue starts to fill up with more people. The posted limits are 114 on the dance floor (which is bigger than that) and 75 in the "lounge" (the area above the pit). By my eyeballing it, I'd guess there were about 300-350 folks there. Angelo steps to the mike as our heroes take their places. A cold opening, no poetics, brief salutations. The first song - BEHAVIOR CONTROL TECHNICIAN. And here's where exact memory gives way to hazy recollection. 

You see, there were more than a few, shall we say - spirited, soldiers in the pit. Real Alpha Male, NFL linebacker types. And they were enforcing their will in the pit. They weren't really hurting anyone, they were just so fucking huge that anything less than 200 pounds was merely an annoyance. Most important observation: These troglodytes were not here to dance, and dance they did not. One of these men completely clobbered me with a forearm block that left me inclining towards the horizon. Lucky for me, there is always someone to catch you in a Fishbone pit. 

Things mellowed over the the next couple of songs, leading up to a remarkable moment, something I've not seen before at a Fishbone show. Angelo and Walt called out an invitation for anybody who was holding weed to climb up onstage and smoke up. "It's legal, dammit...while we're here blaze it!" About five guys made it behind the stacked bass and guitar amps at center stage left. The rest of the the folks were pushed back onto the dance floor. A great cloud of smoke began to eminate from behind the stacks. "I know that many of you have smoked weed," says Angelo as twenty people in the audience light up pipes and joints. "But how many of you have BEEN weed, because that's what I am. I'm a weed plant!," and with that they launched into a great run of the song. 

The club is rapidly filling with smoke and security is getting antsy, but to their credit, keeping their nature in check. Nobody's bleeding - there's no real emergency. One by one the onstage smokers are escorted to the steps at stage left and stage right. Nobody gets thrown out, or told to extinguish any contraband. Lemme tell you, even in Sin City, that kind of shit is rare in a club. 

Some songs in the first half of the set included the "jam" version of WHEN PROBLEMS ARISE, a spendiferous LEMON MERINGUE, SKANKING TO THE BEAT (where Angelo when into the crowd and lost most of his clothing), CHOLLY (now opened with the chant of "fat chicks, fat chicks!"), and ALCOHOLIC, and LYING ASS BITCH. 

Some songs in the second half included SUNLESS SATURDAY, UGLY (prefaced by a rant about the seductiveness of the oblivion of the Jerry Springer show), MA AND PA, a spotty MONKEY DICK (which is too bad 'cause I fucking love that song) JUST ALLOW (with lots of Theremin) and closing with PARTY AT GROUND ZERO. 

In total, just two songs that were never featured on previous recordings. The show was just over 1:30 and ended with Angelo confirming that the "new album", Fishbone and Friends, was being put together and all would be revealed downstairs at the merchandise table. I didn't head down there, thinking MunkyRobot or Lauren might. Oops. 

There were some problems. The sound men were onstage for almost 70% of the show, repatching monitors, resetting mike stands, getting new mikes set up for Angelo. Angelo was having to set his vocal mike on the floor and lay down on his side and play sax into it that way. Amazingly, nobody freaked out onstage, although Walt looked tense at times will all the bullshit going on. I'll be real interested to hear about Santa Barbara and the upcoming Tramps show. Hope this gives a bit of a taste to our fellows overseas who don't get to see the men of Fishbone often enough. 

Peace Through Superior Monsterpower, Mr. Marz