Feb. 23, 2003 was legendary. There are very few people who
realize this yet, but things were happening.
Notably a little band named Rocket From the Tombs performed in
Freud Playhouse. For those of you (presumably nearly all) who
haven’t heard of this band they were a proto-punk outfit from
Cleveland that never recorded a proper album and split up amid
fiery antagonism. This was their first and probably last concert
together since 1976.
The crowd was full of mostly white-haired old folk, one
legendary rock critic, and five kids whose socks needed rocking.
The review of the show in the Daily Bruin was one of the best
pieces of writing we ran all year. I had nothing to do with writing
it. Go read the article if you want the full story about the show;
all I’ll say is that every aspect ““ guitars, drums,
vocals, etc. ““ of the band rocked harder than anyone would
have thought was humanly possible.
Walking upstairs afterwards, pondering who in the world the old
guy dressed all in orange was, the sound guy randomly pulled me and
my friend toward his booth where the smell of burnt plastic was
overwhelming. He knew.
In all likelihood the vast majority of people there had no idea
what they were witnessing. There were probably fewer than one-tenth
of the people there who go to the average Coldplay or Creed show.
The show wasn’t sold-out. People, even UCLA students, were
probably watching news coverage of some war instead of coming to
the show.
To take words from an immortal, it just doesn’t matter. It
was the stuff of legends.
Bromberg was the Daily Bruin Arts and Entertainment
editor.