HALF TWO: BEGETS A SHITTY ENDING[35 minutes]
HAPPINESS IS SOMETHING YOU NEED[PANIC! Cover]
“Recently, people have been coming up to us. People from indie blogs and all comparing us to PANIC! and asking how we feel about them coming back together, is it because we’re the only other duo around? Not to mention they have this huge headlining tour with RRH going down. I really don’t know. I will say this, they play their own form of music and we play our own form of music. Now, to make sure you note the difference..., Walt start the riff.”
Walt begins a riff reminiscent of...no exactly the same as the bassline to Metallica’s Master of Puppets.
“Walt! Wrong riff!”
“Sorry!”
Walt begins a slow Garage Rock-ish riff, chocked full of feedback and every now and then, a bass slap. Peter adjusts his mic in front of him as Laura begins her slow drum beat. After half a minute of this, Pete takes a sharp inhale. “My friend Gary Finch taught me about this, let him Rest in Peace!” He announces before the song enters a heavy breakdown.
Pete’s frayed riff rips along the crowd as he stomps on his pedal board quickly yet aggressively, Laura begins an erratic beat, a crazed look in her eye. Walt is stomping on his own distortion pedal in a vain attempt to match Pete’s own riff.
In a high falsetto, Pete attempts to imitate PANIC!’s Ashley Hunter:
Let's paint the walls and tell everyone we're okay
Sniff the ceiling paint and fall asleep to the sound of passing cars
Sing me a song, if it makes a difference these days I'm heartless
After a few lines of this, he realizes how useless it all is and throws away any attempt of sounding like her, instead opting a more Punk-Rock/Hardcore approach and shouts the lyrics in anger:
Give me a box of matches and I will burn this town to FUCKING cinders
I'm not a savior and FUCK YOU I’M not a prophet
There’s NO fondness in my heart ONLY THIS BLACK ABYSMAL PIT
We're just trying to keep our heads down, SO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE
ONE TWO THREE ONE TWO THREE PICK IT UP ONE TWO THREE
At this point all the other instruments besides the guitar descends into nothing as Pete begins a slow guitar solo that slowly escalates, getting higher and higher in tone as Pete headbangs his brown hair in a Windmill fashion(similar to that of Corpsegrinder, Lead Vocalist to Cannibal Corpse).
Before the long the song is over and each member of the band is chuckling as the crowd cheers: “1 2 3, 1 2 3, Pick it Up, 1 2 3?” Laura asks. “That’s not even in the actual lyrics of the song!”
“I thought that if I was doing a Hardcore song, I might as well parody a song parodying Hardcore music. Bomb the Music Industry! ladies and gentlemen. Now, onto the next song?”
“How about another cover?” Walt suggests.
“Sure, why not.” Peter shrugs.
NATURE OF THE EXPERIMENT [TOKYO POLICE CLUB COVER]
“This next one is a little newer but still great in my opinion.” Peter starts as he clears his throat, and signals over to Walt. The bassist looks over to Pete, and then grins widely upon realization.
He taps his guitar as he points to Laura, who nods her head understandingly.
Walt begins, his deep slightly scratchy bassline ripping the song open, as he moves his hand up and down his bass.
GO!
Drumming with slight snare and cymbal tapping remains a constant throughout the song. Peter begins strumming his guitar, a lot deeper than the soft strums of the original.
We've got our tracks covered
Thanks to your older brother
The strumming on Pete’s part deepens for the rest of the song as he head bangs slowly to the song.
It's not the moonlight that sets me off
It's not the money that makes me scoff
It's my impeccable disorder
Where I keep on falling for her
It's not the way my mother talks
It's not the people that she mocks
It's the nature of the experiment
It's the patterns of my temperment
It's the nature of the experiment
They're taking me in increments
We're halfway up the bracket
The rain comes through my jacket
It's not the stones inside my shoes
It's not the risk of what's to lose
It's an ancient Russian proverb
But I doubt it's ones that you've heard
It's not the cracks beneath the floor
It's not the fact that it's a chore
It's the nature of the experiment
It's the patterns of my temperment
It's the nature of the experiment
They're taking me in increments
The audience claps as the band finishes the song, and Walt begins a steady bass-line preparing the band for their final song.
TINY OUTLET SHOPS
I’ve got a home now
A voice off-stage but familiar chimes in as Amber Lowell climbs on stage while Laura begins to drum slowly, the sound distant but slowly approaching. The crowd cheers as she strides over to the keyboard, which has already been setup for her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Amber Lowell!” Pete shouts as he moves back, unneeded for this song.
The crowd cheers as Amber smiles, adorning her mic on the stand attached to the keyboard, she begins to play the keyboard’s Chillwave tempo as the drumming stops and only a steady bassline and the chillwave tempo remain.
I’ve found my place in the world and it’s not here
It’s anywhere you choose to be near
I can still teach you if I remember how
The drumming comes back, as Pete watches with a simple grin on his face as the band moves on.
The crowd cheers even louder while Walt stands behind his temporary bandmates with the funky bassline continuing on.
Days be days and past be past
Tours last forever and never stop
My only home, is these tiny outlet shops
Far far away, I can’t keep my mind above the gutter
I wanna gooooooo, I wanna goooooo
Somewhere you’d never knooooooow
I’ve got a home now, I’ve got a home now
I’ve found my place in the world and it’s not here
It’s anywhere you choose to be near
I can still teach you if I remember how
Days be days and past be past
Tours last forever and never stop
My only home, is these tiny outlet shops
Far far away, I can’t keep my mind above the gutter
I wanna gooooooo, I wanna goooooo
Somewhere you’d never knooooooow
Now I’m live in the city, waning right and left
Hold on, hold on, hold on (for a moment)
Colder yet there, I’m standing here
Waiting for time to pass
Everything falls silent and the audience claps and cheers.
“Thank you Baltimore, we love you and goodnight.” Laura says and the Venue falls dark...
