Dear reader, in case you were concerned that Rock'n'Roll has been dead and long gone, please be advised that this is no longer the case. Rock'n'Roll has been resurrected in the image of the English band MUSE. I was aware of MUSE a couple of years ago, but was not impressed back then. I thought the singer was trying to be Thom Yorke or Jeff Buckley and the music simply didn't do it for me back then. I have been listening to 3 of their new songs in the past couple weeks and started getting into them. On a recording, the music of MUSE is definitely the type that grows on you over time. Didn't care for it too much at first, but little by little found myself throwing on "Stockholm Syndrome", "Time Is Running Out" and "Butterflies & Hurricanes".
Tonight I met Eric and Sandra and reunited with old friends Bob and Marta at Moondoggies in La Jolla. It is nice to catch up. It's great to take a walk down memory lane back to the legendary summer of '94. So much has happened in everybody's life, yet we are all sitting around the table and interacting the way we did 10 years ago -- as if we were all frozen in time and the world around us is the one that kept changing.
Ok...so what about the Rock'n'Roll, you ask. Where do I start? What do I write? How do I capture in words an experience so unreal and abstract? Well, I get in my car to head back home and crank MUSE's "Stockholm Syndrome" which has got to be one of the greatest rockin' tunes. I'm into it. I'm feeling it. Rocking out. Speeding. I am rolling down the windows and I feel the wind engulf me and whisper in my ear "go to the show." I am listening to the music and picturing the band on stage at Brick by Brick for their sold out show. I am thinking that they must've gone on stage at exactly the same time that I started the ignition of my car. So I reach Sea World Drive and without hesitation exit. I am going. My chances of getting in are one in 1000, but what the hell - I'll sit outside and listen to the show the way I used to listen to shows outside the Velvet and the Casbah back in the day before I turned 21. So I park my car and move towards the entrance. "Krassy!!!", I hear my name called out. I am not wearing glasses so I can't recognize the face of the call. Security checks my ID and as I answer his "may I see your ticket?" question with "I don't have one," the person that was calling me turns out to be Mike Halloran, who moves close to me, grabs me by the arm and tells the doorman "He is my plus-one." My wrist is stamped and as I look at Mike with confusion and disbelief, he tells me "Go on! Rock out!" Everything happens so fast and I am almost delirious.
Inside the club the atmosphere is electric. Charged. Hot. Loud. Flashing lights augment the thundering sounds coming from the stage. I move up closer and am pulled in front of the stage by the invisible force of music. The crowd is ecstatic. Arms in the air. Shuffling feet. Screaming and singing. Everywhere I turn I see energy, excitement and delight on people's faces. MUSE deliver some of the greatest live Rock'n'Roll I've ever had the luck of experiencing. Loud. Tight. Symphonic. Emotional. Powerful. This 3 piece delivers a noise wave that either drowns you or picks you up and carries is you on a wild surf ride. The singer is a true musician, switching between electric guitar and piano. His guitar playing is as good as Rock'n'Roll needs it to be, but his piano playing is close to virtouso-like. His singing is heartfelt, soulful, powerful and fills the air. The drummer and the bassist provide the solid backbone for the powerful arena rock sound of the band. Live, MUSE is a ten-ton truck moving towards you at a speed of 120mph.
I have moved closer to the pit now where Irish, British, Mexican and American fans are having the time of their life. The vibe is so incredible, that I've surrendered and control of me is in the hands of the band and the crowd. Eyes closed. I am lost in the music and don't realize I've been lifted off the ground and thrown above people's heads. I am now crowd surfing. Loving every second of it. And the 7 seconds I was carried on a sea of hands feel like a lifetime. The band leaves the stage for a few moments with the crowd screaming in demand for their return. The wait is short. MUSE plays 2 more great songs projecting more and more energy which is not absorbed but charged back by the erupting crowd. The closing song of the show is "Stockholm Syndrome," the song that I had been imagining seeing live so many times in the past couple of weeks. It is the song that felt great on my speeding drive down to the venue. It is the song that, performed live, threw me over the edge and made me lose myself completely. In a trance...
I am standing outside, sweat running down my face, my head still spinning, and my heart still pounding. I feel some itching and as I lift my shirt I find a cut on the side of my waist. I must have caught on someone's belt or watch or bracelet while crowd surfing.

I feel like I stepped into some magic world for a half hour and came out a new person. Younger, stronger, tougher, and alive. And the cut on the side of my waist makes me feel so punk. I look around for Mike so I can thank him, but no luck. How cool is it that he got me in? He must've known I was to experience this. It boggles my mind. "Coincidences" in life have boggled my mind for a long long time. Such turns of events reinforce the belief that everything happens for a reason.
I don't know what more to say. I need to get some sleep. MUSE play LA on Wednesday, but the show is sold out. But so was tonight's. And I was lucky to get in...so who knows, I might drive up Wednesday night to experience this natural high again as the band conquers the Mayan Theatre.
Good night.

Krassy Can Listen To It:
"Stockholm Syndrome" by
MUSE