Saturday, January 11, 2003
My Last Deg Live
Part One
Now playing:
Def Leppard
On Through the Night
Leaving home for the Dir en grey Final at Yokohama Arena, I’m in am inconsolably grouchy mood: i’ve got like half a dozen people clawing at me via email (“Where are you?” / “I need this!” / “I need that!” / “I need your help!” / “I need you!” / “We need to rehearse!” / “Let’s meet today!” / “Let’s meet tonight!” / “Let’s meet tomorrow!” / “Let’s meet now!” / “Call me!” / “Call me!” / “Call me!”) and rather than being thankful for the attention, activity, friendship, all that, i just feel like throwing my keitai into a very deep hole, pouring cement over top of it, then building an apartment complex on top. Leave me alone! “I vant to be alone!” For the first time i can understand what actors and musicians mean when they whine about, “oh, i can’t take the fame and pressure!”
Plus i’m running late and i JUST miss my train so i have to stand around like a moron for 10 precious minutes. I’m scowling at the world.
But I eventually get to Shin-Yokohama, and the restorative powers of 10,000 cute teenage female Kyos and Dies running around kicks in. Bliss! It’s hard to be pissed off when there’s so much cuteness in the world.
As I draw closer to the venue, there’s a giant chant echoing through the streets. I get to the place and there’s thousands of people, including maybe fifty girls in a circle, and each one has to yell the name of her favorite band member — giving them “fighting spirit” — so it’s like “HEY! Toshiya! HEY! Kyo! HEY! Shinya! HEY! Kyo! HEY! Die! HEY! Kyo! HEY! Kaoru! HEY! Kyo!” It’s a very cool melody to hear echoing through the canyons of office buildings as you approach (2.5mb RealVideo) from 50 meters back.
I meet up (888kb RealVideo) with Jang, Karla, and Bunny, recon the situation a bit (the merch tables are closed, the coat check is that-a-way, that line’s for this and this line’s for that), and i go get on line to check my coat — which, at Yokohama Arena, means “wait in line for 15 minutes for a white garbage bag. Pay ¥500 for said bag. Put all you worldly possessions into said bag. Tie a knot on top. Get in another line. Wait. Watch sun set. Watch icicles form on the tip of your nose. Be deafened by loudspeakers announcing DOORS OPEN! DOORS OPEN! Watch people start running maniacally and colliding into each other. Get antsy and nervous because you’re STILL in LINE. Finally hand over your bag to another clerk, who slaps a flimsy piece of tape with a number on it onto the bag, gives you a matching number, then throws the bag onto a giant cart-o-bags like so much trash…”
“Realize it’s freezing (it’s January, the sun is down, i’m in a t-shirt, shivering). Adrenaline kicks in. Accost a frightened staffer (frightened not of me but of the insane girls frantically running to and fro like the North Koreans are invading runforyourlives!!!) and ask where the B1 entrance is.”
“Run in elegant, gazelle-like lopes past troops of slower, turtle-like, platform-booted girls towards the entrance, which turns out to be all the way around the building.”
“Make a face and sign of the devil at a camera guy trucking along the line of people.”
“Hand over your ticket at the door and dash for the ‘standing’ entrance. Show your ticket ten times at each gate til you reach B1. Stop. Breath sigh of relief. Look around in amazement.”
Yoko Ari is huge. It’s an American-style arena — a.k.a. a hockey/basketball kinda place. Only instead of ice, there’s a 3 x 3 block formation on the floor, filled with Deg lookalikes. (Picture the Brady Bunch intro, with the nine squares). My block, B1, is Peter Brady’s square — Die’s side, maybe 20 meters back from the stage. Block A1 (Greg Brady) is in front of us, directly in front of a wall of P.A. gear, and though i’m jealous of their proximity to the stage, i also know they will be instantly deafened, so it’s a fair trade.
A2 is the Brady dad, and the place where everyone wants to be, right up in front of Kyo. But still, that section was several few meters back from the stage — there’s giant camera rigs rolling around in front of the stage. And there’s not one but THREE cranes swooping around like seagulls plucking fish out of the ocean, practicing various audience shots. And half a dozen big-ass cameras are perched around the room, like the ones you see on a TV set, the ones that look like they’re trying to be two-man guns on the deck of a battleship. And there’s another half dozen guys ducking around like troops in trenches, with either big news-reporter cameras on their backs or smaller digital handicams. Today is one hell of a big production.
Looking at all the hardware and manpower, i begin to feel nervous for the band. Because it’s like, imagine someone telling you, “Ok, so all the money you made touring last year? We’re gonna spend it all in one day, to make a DVD. So if one of you sucks on that day — if you get a cold, or sleep poorly the night before, or your grandma dies, or you eat some bad sushi, or if you’re just plain nervous and don’t perform at 110% — then the DVD will suck and you’ll have flushed a year’s worth of earnings for you and your bandmates down the toilet.”
So i feel not just excited, but nervous as well, as block B1 gradually begins to fill up with maybe 200 people total, a few guys but mostly girls… a few just wearing short schoolgirl skirts and nothing else, except for gauze wrapped around their chests. Now THAT is a cool fucking fashion statement. [me: big smile, superhappy nodding.]
From the point of view of the cameramen on the cranes, the whole scene must look like frost on windowpanes, with all the fans collecting in the corners closest to the stage, trying to get as close to front-and-center as humanly possible. The whole back half of each block is empty spare a few lazy people leaning against the back railings. But the forward railings though… crunch!
As 6pm rapidly approaches, Deg’s manager, a familiar face to all of us by now, comes out on stage — in a suit! — and goes on for 10 minutes about “don’t hurt yourselves, don’t hurt anyone else, and you see these police lights rigged up all over the place?” <rotating red lights start to spin and flash> “If those are activated,THE BAND STOPS PLAYING.”
And then out go the lights and up go the screams…
END OF PART ONE