Taking a detour into nostalgia, I arrived at the Bud Light main stage for Love and Rockets and it became clear as I strolled to nearly the front row that everyone was over on the south side of Grant Park catching the Gnarls Barkley set, leaving me surrounded by pasty faces in Bauhaus shirts.
A visibly excited Perry Farrell, a bit redundant since the man constantly seems on the verge of orgiastic frenzy, introduced the band, hailing them, “the coolest fucking band ever.” Leader Daniel Ash, dressed in Pirates of the Caribbean meets leather studded S&M biker ensemble, worked his guitar into feverish squalls of feedback on choice numbers “No Big Deal” and “Haunted When the Minutes Drag.”
The Rockets wall of drone held up well, and their industrial moodiness was a good warm-up for NIN, who would soon be sharing the same stage. The decidedly older crowd (mostly mid 30s looking males) responded with shoegazer movements, their awkward lurching making them look like they were awakening from a sustained period of hibernation.
When the costumed bumblebee men bounced onto stage, looking like Mr. Met in striped prison uniforms, I was simply confused. Admittedly, the Rockets are a bit before my time, and for such goofily happy characters to be jumping around to the industrial moodiness was just odd. Nevertheless, the band showed a lot of life on stage, and it was a pleasure to catch such a seminal band in their twilight. My only complaint: no “So Alive.” What the fuck?!
-Drew Fortune
Photos by Zach Dilgard (via link)