Last night, I headed west through the city of San Francisco and made my way to the Fillmore, a pretty famous and historic venue in (who would guess?) the Fillmore district.  I was pretty excited to see Cobra Starship, a recent favorite of mine, but as I got my hand stamped and entered the theater, I suddenly realized that I was going to be quite the minority at this show.  The first thing I saw when I came up the stairs was a mom (yes, a mom) with her two children, both of whom were no older than twelve (yes, the number after eleven).

Let's see, how can I accurately convey to you the crowd at this show?  Well, the fact that I have a penis immediately put me in the minority - let's say, 20%.  Then, the fact that I am old enough to legally drink alcohol put me a super-small minority - probably less than 5%.  Finally, the fact that I was not chaperoning children put me in the ultra-selective group of non-teenage, non-parent males.  Our attendance at this concert was as significant as the Greek Orthodox transvestite hooker vote is to Barack Obama.  But whatever, I've never felt the need to fit in, so I grabbed myself a Sierra Nevada from the bar, found a nice spot not too far from the stage (which was pretty much anywhere), and prepared to be bitten by the rockin' party sounds of Cobra Starship.

After a few opening punk bands, which were pretty decent, the boys (and girl) came out on stage to the screaming, lustful delight of hundreds of 15-year old girls.  Jesus Tapdancing Christ!  You would have thought that the 1964 Beatles came out on stage with the amount of screaming that ensued.  I'm also pretty sure I saw some panties thrown on stage, which is kind of disturbing, yet definitely arousing.  The guy right behind me was dancing and thrashing around while thrusting his crutch into the air (no joke), which was obviously noticed and appreciated by the band, as they gave him some major props in between songs.



Cobra Starship has an extremely entertaining and awesome-sounding live show.  Granted, my review of them could be biased by the fact that they played at the Fillmore, which is known for having excellent acoustics.  I would definitely agree with this and it even seemed to me that the sound crew took the novel approach of not cranking up all the amps to an extremely loud and distorting volume.  The music was loud, but always clear, which is something you never really hear at an indoor rock show when you stop to think about it.

What also makes their live show so interesting is that there is a nice blend of solid, even hard-ish rock, with some good rhythms and beats to get those sweaty, supple bodies moving.  It's like having a rock dance party, which becomes quite the trivial task when you consider that you're in a room full of horny female tweens.  Anyone who has listened to a Cobra Starship album will not be surprised by this in the least.  They even did a really cool job of mixing portions of several songs together to add a live DJ feel to the show.

This was pretty typical of the evening:



I recognized everything that they played, which means they stuck to their two studio albums and didn't play anything new.  Here are the songs that they played, in no particular order (mainly because I can't remember the order):

The City Is At War
Guilty Pleasure
Kiss My Sass
Damn You Look Good And I'm Drunk (Scandalous)
Smile For The Paparazzi
Prostitution Is The World's Oldest Profession (And I, Dear Madame, Am A Professional)
My Moves Are White (White Hot, That Is)
Pleasure Ryland
Send My Love To The Dancefloor, I'll See You In Hell (Hey Mister DJ)
The Church Of Hot Addiction
It's Amateur Night At The Appollo Creed!
Bring It (Snakes On A Plane)
The Ballad Of Big Poppa And Diamond Girl


"Pleasure Ryland", the last track on ¡Viva La Cobra! (and the first encore), was pretty cool live.  Ryland Blackinton, lead guitarist and the person whom the track is named after, created the whole song from scratch, layer by layer, on his Roland keyboard for all to enjoy.  Once the bassline and all the melodies were in place (and looping), the other band members came out, took their places, and started the song.  By the way, Ryland Blackinton is by far the best name ever.  You couldn't invent a better name even if you tried.

The show was entertaining and sounded fantastic; I'd definitely recommend it to any punk-rock-loving teenager (or possibly young 20-something).  That being said, I would have enjoyed the show a hell of a lot more if I was a teenage girl.  I also would have received a lot less dirty looks when I took off my underwear and threw it on stage.  Oh well, at least I didn't throw dirty underwear.