Ooh, and about that magical night at Fuzion, I have some things to say.
(I'm going to apply the mantra, "do one thing every day that scares you." Today, that thing is for me to de-lurk in close quarters with the Maidens. Unless someone posts a link, there's no way I'm going to Facebook with this. It's just too cluttered there. I'm going to the lion's den.)
I went to see TIMs, for the first time (I guess you would call it my "maiden" Maidens voyage), at Fuzion in Huntington Beach. And I must say I enjoyed myself immensely, not only for the talent and stunning beauty of the performers, but really for the entirety of the affair, including the opening bands (ranging from "excellent" to, umm, "other"), and for what could best be described as the intimacy of the setting.
(I get that "intimacy" and "heavy metal performance" seem largely incongruent. Bear with me; I'll get to the heart of the matter down the page.)
Now never having seen TIMs prior to the 12th, nor even having heard of them until the week before that, how I found myself at Fuzion that night is a bit of its own interesting backstory that I may share another time, once we get better-acquainted. But the serendipity of learning that they were playing as close to my home as they will likely ever get, I picked up some tickets on-line and went. I met up with Jay, my long-time friend and retired wingman around 6PM and we stayed for the whole thing. There were five or so opening bands (I would have expected no more than two), each of them having about an hour to set up, play, and break down so the next band could get their turn. The venue was both smaller and less-crowded than I anticipated, perhaps very awkwardly so for the earlier of the opening bands (some of whom had had no more than ten people in the room). At first I was wondering what I had gotten myself into.
Nevertheless, by the time TIMs took the stage (a span of five hours demanding the patience of Job), the crowd was considerably larger, and the ladies made it known that they were here to perform. And perform, they did. It was a mind-blowing experience, and the only downside to it was that the set was too short. And while the ladies put on an excellent show, what really made the night unique for me was the collective of little things that complemented their performance:
- Well-balanced acoustics. You could hear every instrument in ideal proportion. And it wasn't unnecessarily loud: the ladies weren't pushing their rigs to eleven. It was okay for me to take out my earplugs for a few moments, close my eyes, and embrace the moment at full volume (of course the plugs went back in a few moments after -- I'm still able to stave off tinnitus,and unlike my half-as-old self, this man-of-a-certain-age is no dummy).
- An unexpected sense of intimacy, family and community. Weird, huh? I get that's not what you'd expect from a metal show, and yet there it was. Every spot on the floor felt like it was front-row. People in the crowd seemed to know one another and the members of all the bands, and vice-versa. Yeah, they were fans, but it looked like many were family too. The oldest in the crowd were older than *my* parents. The venue seemed smaller than the size of the places I would expect TIMs to play, in what I understand are sellout crowds. And yet even if it was sold out, this room at Fusion was arguably at half capacity, almost as if it were by design.
- The after-show meet-and-greet was a class act, and a move I would not have expected for a band that has over a million Facebook "likes." Clearly, ladies, you are not "too cool for school." There was no obvious time constraint. There was no rush. You stayed long enough to meet everyone who wanted to stop by, be it for autographs, handshakes, photos, filling out your dance cards, or any other tedious neuroses (I saw a couple of weirdos splay out on the greeting table for a group photo and I'll never admit they were Jay or me. And Jay caught heck from his missus on that one, I tell you what, that is, if he was one of the weirdos splayed out on the table which he wasn't). You indulged it all. And you smiled graciously the whole way through. And *that* sense of accessibility, graciousness and class was really what turned me from a curious observer of the Maidens into your latest devoted fan.
Oh, and I got some souvenirs from the show. This was one of my favorites.
(Jay can't use an iPhone camera to save his life. No matter. With the help of Photoshop, these lovelies made for a nice early Christmas present. Speaking of which, is it considered bad policy to reveal my crush in open forum?)
In short, I came to watch and listen to a show from what I had heard was an excellent band, but until then had not seen it first-hand. And by night's end, that's just what I got and much more: incredible sound quality, an intimate setting, and a sense of genuine enthusiasm TIMs had to be accommodating to their fans. You can't put a ticket price on that kind of experience.
Anyway, ladies, I hope your band is making bank, because it's clear that it deserves to be. And while I don't imagine venues like Fuzion pay well (200 heads at fifteen bucks a pop; by the time the ducats are divvied, I'd be surprised if what's left pays for dinner and gas money home), I hope you continue to do the smaller shows now and again, even after ten million Facebook likes, as they offer a glimpse into the true character of the band, and the heart and soul of the women who make its success possible. It was a privilege for me simply to be in the room that night.
Happy New Year, TIMs, and to all of you who lurk and post here. I promise to see you again in 2016.
Cheers
Mike
