By Brett McCabe X: @ughbrett IG: @ughhhbrett
“You guys here to see Corb Lund?” a man at the Red Dog Saloon in Pioneertown asked us. We were here to see Slipknot, who were unfortunately booked at the same venue and same day as a country and western singer-songwriter. I had already commented on Pappy & Harriet’s Corb Lund Instagram post apologizing ahead of time for what was about to transpire.
Slipknot has new members they need to break in before Sick New World in Vegas. What better place to warm up than a country western bar that serves tri-tip that looks like it belongs in Fallout: New Vegas.
Corb was booked to play the 350-capacity indoor part of the venue later in the night. Slipknot was stationed at the 850-capacity dusty outdoor barbecue section of Pappy + Harriet’s. A young woman with a miniDV video camera records the line to get reactions from the excited crowd. Bigger cameras rest on tripods in sniper’s nests.
The bar has a sign that they are now serving Slipknot whiskey. Posters and shirts were for sale with the show poster and promotional images.
The stage has no backdrop banner. No pyro. Not even a drum riser. Just a few RGB light setups and a Chinese Gong with the S logo behind the drum kit. And barnyard wedding string lights for Pfaff (formerly the Tortilla Man and presently a Dark Chao) to tap when he isn’t smacking a drum.
“(515)” starts. The chaos circus loads onto the stage. Wearing classic-styled red jumpsuits, all with armbands that said 25 on the side that doesn’t feature their individual numbers. Even Corey’s new mask is a throwback. Like a mashup of Vol. 3 with Iowa’s dreads. Almost like former member Jay Weinberg’s homemade Corey mask from when he was just the son of Conan O’Brien’s bandleader. To complete the ‘90s outfit, Corey adorns a pair of black gloves that would definitely not fit O.J. Simpson.
As the new members are not officially confirmed we’ll call them Veinraiser (jeff.jpg) on samples, whose mask looks like Hellraiser but instead of nails, there are black Venom veins, and Dummy (eloy.jpg) on drums with an uninspired mask that looks like if a crash test dummy was shot in the forehead for quitting Sepultura just before their farewell tour.
“We come to you live in the middle of fucking nowhere… This night is 1999,” Corey announces before giving “Mr. 7” permission to start the next track.
Slipknot is celebrating the 25th anniversary of their self-titled album. 25 years of aging means the mosh pit isn’t going to go as hard as it might have when we were all in our teens and twenties. My friend had a chiropractor appointment earlier that day. The band acknowledges this by forgoing the extended bridge of “Spit It Out” so the old timers don’t have to squat on their bad knees. Or maybe everyone’s just in awe that we get to see our favorite arena metal band play in a backyard for the price of a tank of gasoline in California.
At one point Clown removes his hair tie to allow his whispy hair to get some air, while Sid attaches himself to a lighting truss and unzips the cocoon of his jumpsuit to reveal an orange kimono; the unzipped part attached like a cape. I expected him to fly off to drink nectar from the nearest California poppy.
The always gracious Mr. Taylor again thanks the crowd through his raspy voice after four straight days of band practice.
I look up at the golden moon with Marlon Brando’s eyes. I should also see a chiropractor, I think to myself.
Setlist:
Intro. (515)
- People = Shit
- Eyeless
- Disasterpiece
- Before I Forget
- Custer
- Psychosocial
- The Devil In I
- Heretic Anthem
- Unsainted
- Wait & Bleed
- Prosthetics
- Vermillion
- Duality
- Spit It Out
- Surfacing
Shoutout to the homie David Dissanayake at Vault Comics for letting me know about the ticket sale 15 minutes before it happened. Go check out Hollow Heart.
