Millencolin / Senses Fail / Matchbook Romance - live in Chicago (Cover Artwork)

Millencolin / Senses Fail / Matchbook Romance

Millencolin / Senses Fail / Matchbook Romance: live in Chicago

live in Chicago (2003)

live show


3
This review will NOT mention some suspect advice I got from Scott at the end of the show. After an ivigorating 6-7 hour drive back from Iowa (who am I kidding, boring as shit), and picking up a friend of mine, (name changed to protect the innocent) Milo, we headed off to see Millencolin at the M...

This review will NOT mention some suspect advice I got from Scott at the end of the show.

After an ivigorating 6-7 hour drive back from Iowa (who am I kidding, boring as shit), and picking up a friend of mine, (name changed to protect the innocent) Milo, we headed off to see Millencolin at the Metro.

Alright, by now you've noticed I haven't mentioned eiether of the two "support bands", and that's for a simple reason, the old saying, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

Matchbook Romance took the stage at 6:45 and promtply made me bask in their simple mediocrity. Neither terribly good, nor terribly bad, they straddled the line amiably, and ended cursing too much, even for a punk rock show. Their Used-esque sound showed glimmers of breaking out, but as soon as those moments came, they vanished into the background, almost getting me to beg, PLEASE DEAR LORD DON'T KILL THAT GREAT IDEA!!! Their stage presence seemed nil, and while not remarkable, not a band you'd pay to see again.

After that Senses Fail came on. Get Budddyhead on the line right now. There must be some award for complete and utter crappiness that they can recieve. I mean, can't someone make up a trophy with a big picture of an ass on it and say "You guys suck so much ass, we just had to give you a trophy?" As Milo noted, "There's a reason why they're called Senses Fail." Once again, another bunch of Drive Thru suburban white boys screaming incoherently. I suppose this may be an improvement from the pee and potty jokes that are the label's modus operandi, though it may indeed have been regressing. The lead singer, as already mentioned, is exactly the portrait of a douche. His hair, a black mullet esque job with a bleached front already sounds disgusting, but when you marry it to a guy who just said "check out my new NYC tattoo" on stage, another one of those white tshirt fools and the most annoying drunken stupor known to man, you want to slit your wrists. Live, if you ever, ever needed to know the sound of your ears bleeding, look no further. "But what about the rest of the band?" you ask. There must be some good to them. Right?

Nope. Seriously, I gave SF a fair shake. Sure, it sounds like I'm being tough on them, but that's because they really are that bad. They're completely bland, and I really could not care whether they sell any more records or not. No, wait, I hope they don't. Cool track jacket, though. I still want buddyhead on the line.

Ahhh. The reason why I came, why I sat through the awful, awful, awful Senses Fail, the lame support bands, though Milo still contends there really wasn't much support. MILLENCOLIN.

Millencolin slayed. That's all.

Set list: Caps and then the underline mean after the song there's some period of stage banter.

NO CIGAR
__________
Bullion
MAN OR MOUSE
_____________
Material Boy
Duckpond
22
__
Black Eye
OLYMPIC
________
Fox
E20 NORR (Battery Check)
________
Pepper
Otis
In a Room
MONTEGO
_________
Botanic Mistress
PENGUINS AND POLARBEARS
__________________________
Lozin Must
Kemp

ENCORE

Knowledge
Mr. Clean


I'd like to reiterate that this review will not mention specifically said suspect advice given by Scott.