willdeluca’s posterous

"Whatever the audience expected, this exceeded it.  I'd say the band was a freight train, but it was more like a 747, that had DRIVEN all the way from Charlottesville and was burning rubber at the airport before finally coming to a rest…  THE TIRES WERE SMOKING!

And just like a modern jet, EVERYTHING was working.  It has to in order to move.  And boy was the band moving.  Musically.  There were no dance steps, everybody was almost rigid in his place.  But Carter's arms were churning, Dave was spitting into the mic like he was seventeen, and he needed to show the bullies, who he was, where he was coming from.

I'm an ordinary guy
Burning down the house

This was not the hair band eighties.  The members of the DMB were wearing the same clothes that had covered them backstage.  They were not stars, they were MUSICIANS!

There was nothing on tape, no loops, no hard drives.  This night they'd had to conjure the fire from scratch.  They'd had to reach down deep and do it one more time, knowing that their brother was not only gone, but was never coming back."