SHADOWMACHINE LIVE APHRODISIAC 2013




The stage is filled with smoke as the crowd eagerly anticipates the beginning of Shadowmachine's set. Very faintly, the strains of the "Machine," the instrumental opener of their debut album, can be heard, and the crowd instantly begins to cheer. The song is a mishmash of electronic noises, a drum machine beat, and loud percussive synths. After maybe 30 seconds of this noise, Trent D'Amour, band leader and creative force behind the band, leads Shadowmachine on stage. This is the live debut of the newly formed Shadowmachine live band, the only original members being Derrick Goddard and Gabe finch after the death of keyboardist Teresa Campbell. The band is covered with dust and mud, part of it purposely applied to their stage outfits and the other part from fighting and wrestling each other in the muddy fields of the festival grounds. Trent takes the mic and observes the crowd.

Look at you! You're all beautiful!

Derrick counts off 1-2-3 and the band launch into their opener, "Crucified," the arrangement slightly different than that of the studio version. The grimy synth bass line is being played on an actual bass this time, and the song has an overall darker, more organic feel. Trent begins to sing as he stands near the back of the dark stage, eerie green lights illuminating him,



you are just a spear stuck in my side
you are just a sore that i can't hide
tried to cleanse and bandage all my welts
you are just a weal upon my pelt

if the cameras flashed and suddenly they died
would you wag your finger and say don't come inside?
would you touch me with your fingertips?
would you let me lick the poison off your lips?

i was crucified by you
all the things you've put me through
i was crucified by you
all the things you've made me do

The crowd goes crazy, the security struggle to control them as people begin to mosh and crowdsurf,

i don't think that i'll be able to stay sane
with all the alcohol that's pulsing through my veins
if i pull too much, the chains will break my neck
you know every move that i haven't made yet

and if you said "suck my cock" i'd get on my knees for you
there's very little that i wouldn't do
because all in all i'm just your little dog
wallowing in all that's unresolved

i was crucified by you
all the thing's you've put me through
i was crucified by you
all those things you made me do

i was crucified by you
all the shit that i swam through
i was crucified by you
what you said you wouldn't do

The song ends abruptly, and without hesitation the band launch into their second number, "Simian," as the backdrop changes from the band logo to an american flag.

Aphrodisiac, everybody get your beer drinking hats on, because this is fucking Simian!



i'm a real big man with a real big gun
i'd rather sit inside while you all have your fun
i'll shutter my windows, i'll lock my doors
i think like an ape, i'm down on all fours

i like my mossberg more than i like you
and when the sun's gone, what's a man to do?
i watch all those eggheads inside their labs play
but only i'm ready when the world rots away

i've got my twelve gauge, violence with realism
i'm soaked with angst and machiavellianism
i've got my trucker hat, perpetual hunting season
i'm so full of machismo, i'm full of surrealism

i've got myself a dog and a pickup truck
if you're hugging trees, i don't give a fuck
if you think there's a choice, you can shut the fuck up
all those artists are fags, all those women are sluts

i like my colt more than i like you
and when we're all fucked, what are we to do?
i watch all those stupids on television pray
but i know i'm ready for judgment day

i've got my twelve gauge, violence with realism
i'm soaked with angst and machiavellianism
i've got my trucker hat, perpetual hunting season
i'm so full of machismo, i'm full of surrealism

A bottle gets thrown on stage and Trent catches it, pouring it over his face, washing off the filth. He throws it back into the crowd and kneels down, whispering his next lines,



don't try to fuck with me
got my own mouth to feed
don't try to fuck with me
got my own mouth to feed
don't try to fuck with me
got my own mouth to feed
don't try to fuck with me
got my own mouth to feed
don't try to fuck with me
got my own mouth to feed
don't try to fuck with me
don't bite the hand that feeds

Trent jumps off the stage down to the barriers, nudging past security guards to stand on the barricade, holding the mic over the audience while the crowd sings the chorus loudly,

i've got my twelve gauge, violence with realism
i'm soaked with angst and machiavellianism
i've got my trucker hat, perpetual hunting season
i'm so full of machismo, i'm full of surrealism

i've got my twelve gauge, violence with realism
i'm soaked with angst and machiavellianism
i've got my trucker hat, perpetual hunting season
i'm so full of machismo, i'm full of surrealism

The song ends and Trent gives the mic to a member of the audience and collapses, rolling into the mud and smearing his clothes with it before climbing back on stage, throwing handfulls of mud at the rest of the band. There are cracks and reverb as the crowd tries to pull the mic from each others hands. Eventually, a lucky fan grabs it and she screams loudly into the mic,

TRENT! TRENT! I LOVE YOU!

The sound guys cut off the mic sound and the crowd eats up the mic and cord. While another mic is being found for Trent, he walks offstage for a moment, then comes back, a bible in his hand. A roadie hands him a fresh mic.

This next song is a hymn. It's called Rosary.

The band begins to play, the hard rock grooves melding with the moody electronics. Trent's vocals are soft and haunting as he flips through the pages of the bible whilst singing. Derrick keeps the beat, pounding on the drums with force,



you set the blueprint for all of us
and for all of humanity
your basic instructions before leaving earth
are as good as shit to me

fuck your god
faithlessness
killed thousands overnight
killed his son christ

still you stay, always pray
always kneel, fuck your god
always suck the lord's cock

Trent tears the book in half, right down the spine, and throws both halves into different sections of the crowd, screaming the lyrics,

i won't forgive anyone
i just wanted peace, just to live my own life
without the lord's guidance, i think i'm doing just fine
but he died for my sins, why?

such a hypocritic oath for them to take
don't they see all the holes in their faith?
the children won't speak, won't talk, won't hear
won't see, what they've done, what they'll be

fucked up bad
by the lord, by christ
he did this
threw them in the ocean and
left them to drown

then he lied, justified, he held out his cross
and said "who doesn't want to die?"

The song stops to a halt abruptly when Trent's mic starts cutting out. He screams into it in vain before throwing it onto the ground and yelling something at the sound guys. He walks over to Gabe's mic and grabs it.

They won't listen to me, so I need you to tell them that if they keep fucking up I'm going to walk offstage and they're going to have a riot on their hands.

The crowd explodes with boos and chants. Stuff is thrown on stage, directed at the sound guys of course. Trent taps the mic a few times before continuing to speak.

Alright. Here we go.

Derrick stands up and heads to a keyboard. He presses a few buttons and on comes the electronic, programmed drum line to "Palpitation."



Soon, the guitar and bass lines come in and the Trent sings along, his voice a wavering a bit after his performance on the last song,



i've got an ailment that can't be fixed
a slip of the tongue and slit of the wrist
it seems so long ago my heart you kissed
but its so soon to see the blood drip, drip, drip

i'm a fanatic and you're just a creep
pablo honey don't you dare make a peep
i thought your shallowness was super neat
i guess my pool isn't all that deep

The music comes to a grinding halt before a distorted, grimy, drum-n-bass like synth line comes in, and Trent begins to sing lyrics from "Cigarette Burns," plus some new ones,

tiny, drippy little things
hovering a foot above the ground
like little blue flowers that come up in spring time
it's just like a cigarette burn on film
ugly to look at but pretty at a glimpse

i'm walking on barbed wire
with my blinders on
i'm talking about things that
i'm not sure are going on
my hand traces the concrete
touching blood and spit and sweat
am i feeling what just happened?
or has it even happened yet?

Derrick knocks over his keyboard and there's a jarring electronic garble. He kicks it, and it starts emanating a high pitched whine. He sits back down at his drumkit and begins playing the drum line to Palpitation, which the rest of the band join in on, Gabe playing the frantic guitar solo as the crowd cheers on,

i've got an itch that i want you to scratch
i pull you closer to still my heart attacks
i've found my something to be nothing at all
my head is bleeding from hitting the wall

i've got an itch that i want you to scratch
i pull you closer to still my heart attacks
i try to stop myself returning your calls
my head is bleeding from hitting the wall

i feel like flowers that withered away
i wished i might, i wished i may
i guess i'll just have to run away
and live to run another day

All of the instruments stop, and for a second all that can be heard is the squeal of the knocked over synthesizer. Trent walks over to it and starts kicking it, stripping all the keys off with the heel of his boot. The other keyboard player begins playing the beat to "Amerika," and the crowd instantly goes wild. Trent grabs the mic,

Aphrodisiac, you sing this one!

He points the mic out at the crowd, who obligingly sing the first verse, their voices loud and powerful,



johnny's an american, and he likes his dope
johnny's an american, when he's cut he bleeds coke
johnny's an american, you can tell from his eyes
johnny's an american, he likes to watch people die

Fireworks go off as the chorus comes in, loud, distorted and explosive,

i'm an american, i'm the face of the world
i'm an american, i'm not just some little girl
i'm an american, explosive culture shock
i'm an american, look at the size of my cock

why put faith in america, you're just wasting time
you can drink your beer, i'd rather swim in mine
all those fucking tramps, i still can't spare a dime
and i'm gonna snap if they ask one more time

i'm an american, i'm the face of the world
i'm an american, i'm not just some little girl
i'm an american, explosive culture shock
i'm an american, we really know how to rock

johnny's an american, and he really likes to heil
johnny's an american, ain't been a lynching in a while
johnny's an american, looking for something to hang
johnny's an american, rides with his american gang
johnny's an american, he bleeds red white and blue
johnny's an american, and he's watching you

i'm an american, i'm the face of the world
i'm an american, i'm not just some little girl
i'm an american, explosive culture shock
i'm an american, we really know how to rock

i'm an american, i'm the face of the world
i'm an american, i'm not just some little girl
i'm an american, explosive culture shock
i'm an american, look at the size of my cock

The American Flag backdrop behind the band drops, revealing the album artwork for "Machine Music". The song ends, and Trent once again adresses the crowd, looking out over the mass of bodies that is backed by the setting sun,

Are you pumped for Blood of Wecz?

The crowd screams in approval.

How about Vara Gallo?

More cheering. Trent smiles and looks at the band. He says something, then turns back to the mic. Gabe begins playing a slow guitar riff, which is a slightly altered version of the riff from Gallo's song "I Don't Know Yet."



Trent starts singing softly, his voice drenched in echo,

The people I know, I don’t know yet
This becomes clear
And it’s becoming clearer
I never thought I had to
So I never paid attention

The keyboard player begins playing a harsh, heavy industrial beat, and Trent begins to scream at the top of his lungs,

Fuck you
This person I knew
Meant everything
Now its clear
I was so oblivious
Now I know

He knocks over the mic stand. He picks up the mic and wraps the cord around his neck like a noose. Suddenly, the band stops playing "I Don't Know Yet" and start in on another song. The bass player plays a distorted, wah-wah drenched bassline, sounding like a porno groove.



Trent struts across stage, mic in hand,

This is a song about fucking. It's called "Pink Handcuffs"

The porn bass and thumping drum beat compliment each other nicely, and Trent begins singing, or rather, speaking, his voice carrying a feeling of raw sexuality and anger,



a waking dream, in which i felt the need to scream
or hit something, i opened my eyes, and everything was there
it was you, your sister, the dead girl with the flies in her hair
i thought i'd die, when i got close enough to look in your eyes
but i'd be lying if i said i never tried to get close enough to hurt you
but now i feel so see through

i don't wish for a better world, for all of the little choirboys and harlequin girls
we spend good money sending them to school, there they learn the skills required to be cruel
proselytize all the kinds of lies that they fed to me, the world is so dead to me
don't you fucking pity me, i never felt the need to mention
that my time is spent crying and vying for your attention
but fuck me, literally fuck me

i'll never admit that i spent so much of time trying to get bitches and hoes
but you weren't one of those, no, no
you're so much more than a slut or a whore, you are everything i want and a thousand times more
yes, yes, you taught me about violent sex
i'm afraid that you'll wake up and see that the devil that you're fucking is just a guy like me
no, no, no!

i met this girl, who let me into her personal world
made me happy made me sad made me kind of afraid
we laughed, we loved, we made, we both hate
sex, is not something that you should expect
but like a holy text or something it absolves me of guilt
and pain, i've got nothing to gain, everything to lose
please don't make me choose

the lights at night, they flash and dance and make me cross eyed,
a catastrophe that you want to fuck, just my luck,
and i'm surprised you can look me in the eyes
because i'm so mesmerized by the mere thought of you
you, you, you, sweet intangible you

yeah, you

Trent collapses, panting, as the song ends. It's getting dark, and the sight of the setting sun behind the huge crowd is a beautiful one. Trent grabs the mic and adresses the crowd again.

Isn't this festival called aphrodisiac? I want people to start fucking. I want everybody to move...this is the last song for tonight, so you better make the most out of it. Let's get fucking crazy!

The keyboardist plays a compilations of samples of women moaning and screaming, lifted from cheesy 80's pornos. As the moans get louder, he begins playing a mashup of queen songs before a rumbling beat comes in, accompanied by tribal like drumming and distorted guitar. Trent licks his lips as he salaciously delivers his version of Queen's classic "Get Down, Make Love,", his voice on the edge of screaming,



get down make love
get down make love
get down make love
get down make love

you want my body?
well suck my meat
you say you want me?
well give me heat

you suck my cock
you give me head
make love
aphrodisiac

get down make love
get down make love
get down make love
get down make love

you can take me anywhere
i promise not to get any in your hair
coming so heavy
you take me
you make love, you make love, you make love
anywhere

everytime i get up, you wanna go down
everytime i get high, you say you wanna cool down
everytime i get up, you wanna go down
everytime i get high, you say you wanna cool down
you say it's too much
you say it's too tough
well get down, get down, get down make love

The music stops suddenly and Trent looks out into the sea of faces.

Well!? don't be such fucking pussies! Get down! Make fucking love!

The instruments come back in, more intense than ever, as Trent screams the lyrics into the mic,

get down, make love
get down, make love
get down, make love
get down make love!

everytime i get up, you wanna go down
everytime i get high, you say you wanna cool down
everytime i get up, you wanna go down
everytime i get high, you say you wanna cool down
you say it's too much
you say it's too tough
well get down, get down, get down make love

you make love, you make love, you make love
make love in your beds
you make love, you make love, you make love
give me head
you make love, you make love, you love him,
love me instead
you make love, you say it's too much, well

get down, get down, get down make love

Trent throws the mic onto the ground and stomps on it as smoke begins to fill the stage again. It's finally dark, and the band stands, the house lights illuminating the crowd while a floodlight behind the stage illuminates the band.



Trent pants, lying on the stage, the mic still in his hand.

goodnight

he manages to pant, and the band bows before walking offstage.

SETLIST
1. Machine (Intro)
2. Crucified
3. Simian
4. Palpitation (w/ Cigarette Burns Interlude)
5. Amerika
6. I Don't Know Yet (Vara Gallo Cover - Teaser)
7. Pink Handcuffs (First Time Live)
8. Get Down, Make Love (Queen Cover)