Last Night: Insane Clown Posse At Warehouse Live
For a Faygo-soaked slideshow of last night's concert, click here.
Photos by Marc Brubaker
Insane Clown Posse
December 6, 2010
Aftermath is covered in Faygo. The cell phone we hold is sticky with Faygo. Our favorite hoodie is sitting in one corner of our cubicle covered in Faygo. Jeans don't feel good when soaked in Faygo, and neither do wet shoes. The taste of grape Faygo is also in our moustache.
This ain't gonna be linear. And most of this Aftermath will be told from the pit.
Aftermath saw our second Insane Clown Posse show in a year on Monday night, and were doused in the regional generic soda for the ten minutes or so we wandered into the main pit area towards the end of the show. We actually saw the house lights at Warehouse Live come up, surrounded by Juggalos.
At this point it's a compulsion for us to feel something other than indie-rock, punk, or metal. Our cheeks hurt from smiling in the pit, and it wasn't from singing or knowing all the lyrics to every song. It was from looking around and seeing people going apeshit for something they love more than we can comprehend.
The shock-rap duo has had one hell of a year, from the "Miracles" video and the ensuing magnets debacle, to the general reawakening of pop-culture interest in the group, the self-proclaimed "most hated band in America." Funny enough, most people who hate the band have probably never heard a song except "Miracles" on YouTube or even seen a live show at that.
Monday night was a stop on ICP's "Old Shit" tour, reaching back to the beginning of their career, even to 1991's first EP, Dog Beats, to 1995's Riddle Box, and 1997's breakthrough, The Great Milenko. It's not dense, thought-provoking stuff; in fact it's abrasive, annoying, and creepy at times.
But for us, the draw has never been the music or the lyrics, even though we do get some chuckles out of things like "suck on my nuts" and "your mother a bald-headed freak bitch." It's the spirit of family and brotherhood we see at their shows that gets us.
For an hour and a half, two-liter bottles of Faygo were sprayed out into the crowd as the duo reeled off almost 30 songs from their now nearly 20-year history. Each song is seemingly made with a breakdown at the end, which acts as a cue for three or four costumed clowns to jump out front and spray the crowd and throw the bottles into the masses.
We wonder if when Juggalos hear a new song, they imagine in their heads that point in the song, like when we listen to Iron Maiden and can cue in a song where their mascot Eddie would best make his entrance. For us, it's at about the 2:12 mark in Maiden's "Run To The Hills" .
Even their set list that we pilfered has notes on how many clowns, monsters or voodoo guys should come out at each song with the soda cannons and bottles. All very calculated down to a sci...you get the gist.