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Your Gateway to Music and More from a Christian Perspective Slow down as you approach the gate, and have your change ready.... |
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Your Gateway to Music and More from a Christian Perspective Slow down as you approach the gate, and have your change ready.... |
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In Dome: A Review of the Performance of My Beautiful Secret and Adema
at The Dome in Bakersfield, California
By psychologist Dr. Bruce L. Thiessen, aka Dr. B.L.T., the Shrink-rappin' Rock Doc Well, Valentine's Day is on the way, and that's O.K., but don't you miss Christmas? I certainly do. Every January, I spend about two weeks quietly mourning the loss of Christmas morn. That's probably the unconscious reason why my wife and I haven't taken down our Christmas tree yet. Actually, at this point, it's more like a Christmas thistle. On Christmas Day, approximately 0 B.C., Jesus was born in a lowly stable in Bethlehem. He came to bring stability and order to an unstable, chaotic world. Speaking of unstable and chaotic, let's fast forward. On December 19, 2003 A.D., I would have preferred to climb into a time machine, and go back to the stable, where I would bow down to worship the baby King. But having no access to such a chimerical time machine, and being the woefully mortal man that I am, I settled for another lowly birthplace, The Dome. I followed the stars to Bakersfield instead of following the big star to Bethlehem. I'm not sure that this makes me one of the wisemen, but it doesn't necessarily make me a fool either. While The Dome is not exactly the anti-stable, it could arguably be considered the birthplace for all that is unstable. The Dome is Bakersfield's best known home to wrestlers, boxers, Pentecostal preachers, and restless rock 'n roll bands. Just in time for Christmas, The Dome featured some of the hottest acts to come out of Bakersfield since Korn. Enter Adema. On that energetic night, Adema, never a band to forget their Bakersfield roots, stopped by their old stomping grounds to reconnect with their original fan base, and to promote their forthcoming Unstable CD. It was the last leg of the Unstable Tour, right before Adema would become the opening act for Godsmack on Godsmack's 2004 tour. They invited several other acts to open their show and all agreed. Who wouldn't? The other opening acts were OK. Level, for example, was fun and entertaining. But the only memorable opening act, for me, was the performance by one of Bakersfield's fastest rising acts, My Beautiful Secret. I've heard it said, When in Dome, do as The Domans do, but I don't. After all, although I am admittedly insipid most of the time, I am one of those servants of the Almighty who have humbly accepted the call to become the salt of the earth. Most attendees at The Dome (The Domans) were stoned. Furthermore, most were inebriated past the point of no return, and many had regressed to utterly puerile states. I won't call them troglodytes, because that has a pejorative ring, and I was there as a psychologist--an artistically enlightened scientist, making objective, empirical observations. When I walked in, I was struck with a powerful, mesmerizing sound that was My Beautiful Secret! A few of the faces were unfamiliar as the band had undergone a metamorphosis of sorts since their now famous unplugged performance at Chatte back in the steamy summer of '03. But Brian Armer, a thriving survivor, remained the juggernaut at the helm, boldly and vigorously guiding the band through a series of quintessential My Beautiful Secret standards. They broke the sound barrier when they experienced some technical problems with the sound equipment, but managed to bust open the doors and "break on through to the other side" anyway. For the band to sound as good as it did with all of those sound barriers was nothing short of amazing. Once the band began to get into their set, it was like Santa Claus was on a test run, and mistakenly dropped some auditory gifts on Kern County. No, it wasn't the triplets: gold, incense and myrrh. But rest assured, it was bold, intense and sure. I shouted out the name of the band as their penetrable rhythm reverberated through my bouncing bones. Big mistake! Fortunately I was drowned out by solid walls of sound. When you mention the name of My Beautiful Secret out loud in a crowd in these parts, people look at you with indignant expressions. It's kind of like yelling out the name "God" in an Orthodox Jewish Synagogue. It's something you just don't do. Am I bordering on blasphemy, or perhaps idolatry? May God forgive me if I am, but I believe that I am not. I am, after all, fully cognizant of the fact that these cats are mere mortals. But though their music and lyrics deftly mirror the abysmally fallen nature of all of God's human creatures, there is something divine about the delivery and drive of this Kern County musical staple. Yes, I miss Christmas, especially those white Canadian Christmases of yore that I grew up with as a child living in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. But while there was no sign of a blizzard on this December night, a winter storm was not far away. The majestic music of My Beautiful Secret was the distant thunder and lightening on the horizon presaging the mother of all electrical storms. When the members of Adema hit the stage with their charismatic, indefatigable frontman; their indomitable, animated bass player; their electrifying lead guitar player; and their deafeningly deft drummer, the crowd was stunned out of their stoned states. The band didn't skip a beat as they played nearly every song in their repertoire-old and new; emo and blues; post-punk and new-fangled funk. If you were brave enough to step into the mosh pit, you were likely to become mashed potatoes, smothered in gravy made from your own freshly spilled blood. Yes, it was slightly out of hand, but now I'm getting a little carried away. You would have been carried away too if you would have been there. |
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