Rock

Motley Crue. That’s right, I went to see Motley Fucking Crue. And they brought the rock. Fueled by Preston’s unholy devotion to the rock, last night was one hell of a good time, pure fun. We started drinking beer in the parking lot, car windows rolled down and the Crue on the stereo.

The Crue could walk dangerously close to the line of being a parody of themselves and the whole 1980s scene they ruled if the whole thing wasn’t so balls out. Sure, it’s a greatest hits reunion tour from a band that was known more for living wild than for making anything but loud party music, but the intensity and the seriousness of the performance were incredible.

The show – part of the Carnival of Sins tour – started with the lights down and a midget in a clown suit shouting out a welcome. Then out of a box came two of the gorgeous set of backup-dancing trapeze strippers, making out. Then the drum beat… and the “Shout!” “Shout!” opening to “Shout at the Devil,” and it was on.

The Crue played every song of theirs I knew, and me being nowhere near an actual fan, tons I didn’t. Song-wise the highlights were the fist-pumping “Girls Girls Girls,” the fist-pumping “Dr. Feelgood” and the fist-pumping “Wild Side.” Atmosphere-wise, the highlights were the tremendous light show, the motorcycles, the trapeze lesbian dancers, the flying drumming, the tittie-cam, and of course the ubiquitous fist pumping. For all their theatrics, their noise and the overall bravado, it’s easy to forget the Crue is nothing more than a drum-bass-guitar-vocal combo. Rock’s three instruments and a singer. In a strange sense they’re stripped down, and the low personnel is in such contrast with everything else.

The costumes, the swagger and the crunch of the attitude sold the whole show. The crowd was rowdy, drunk, sketchy and skeezy, but absolutely devoted to getting rocked by the Crue.

Devotion to rock is quite a simple pursuit – and incredibly fulfilling. Go see the rock if you can. Don’t worry if it’s not the real thing in an arena. Go catch your local butt rock cover band. But get your rock on. Get rocked and get your fucking rock on.