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QotSA: Are Those Thugs From the Desert Ready For the Big League?

No beer from the editor while watching the supergroup for the new millenium.
24 juni 2002, Melkweg, Amsterdam (NL)

Tekst: Xander van Aart

Publicatiedatum: 25 juli 2002

Indeed. After spending a night with the members of the Queens of the Stone Age, professionally, somewhere, late last year, I sensed a change in the band's vision and direction. I think the thing that tipped me off was the words "evolve or die" that were carved on Josh Homme's and Nick Oliveri's foreheads. Later, when I spoke to Josh backstage about the upcoming record Songs For The Deaf, he talked at length about their commercial aspirations. With Foo Fighter Dave Grohl on drums and former Screaming Tree Mark Lanegan on vocals and contributing commercial songwriting, Songs For The Deaf has all the elements that should guarantee it major success. At least on paper. No one has really heard the album. Because promos of the new record are extremely rare. With the street date backed up all the way to the 27th of August, it will be some time before we see if anything happens, as far as fulfillment of commercial aspirations go. To gear up, QOTSA made the jump over the big pond for a short European tour as a sort of trial run. A show not to be missed. Especially so, because of the presence of Grohl, Lanegan, and A Perfect Circle guitarist Troy van Leeuwen. I called my friend Bjorn, and he brought some beers and then we left for the show.

On our way to Amsterdam I called QOTSA's management, attempting to get a hold of a pair of heavy-duty Access All Areas press passes, but I couldn't understand the woman. "You can't get in!" she yelled into the phone. "It's sold out, and it is way too late to be included on the guest list. Go home, whoever you are. We don't want you there." Then she started to cry and hung up. I shrugged. But this woman was only a manager, and I felt I had far more important things to do than hassle with managers or other self-important freaks wearing ties. I can smell control freaks from great distances, and I loathe them. I knew fellow desert rockers The Earthlings? were supporting the Queens that night, and suddenly I remembered that I was carrying a backstage pass for any show of the current Earthlings? tour. I got it last week from a friend who's name I cannot mention under ANY circumstances, because he is active in the business of ROCK, even if only on a doubtful level.

While getting out of the train, we bumped into Dave Grohl. My friend Bjorn, a major Nirvana fan sporting long brown hair and a worn-out Nevermind shirt, said nothing. When we were around the corner he started cursing. "Jesus!" he said. "Why don't I have the guts to talk to Grohl? Nirvana is my all-time favorite band. Now I ruined the chance of my life to shake the man's hand. I totally screwed this one up, and I'll never forgive myself for it." I felt sorry for him and bought him a beer inside some cheap and messy bar owned by an older foreign couple.

We met an old friend of ours near the venue's entrance, and he was carrying a piece of cardboard with the words "QOTSA TICKETS WANTED - ANY PRICE" written on it with a black magic marker. I felt funny telling him how I hoped he would get in with the backstage pass in my Minolta bag. I always carry this bag around and the blue Minolta logo on the flap often works miracles. Ticket agents and door-personnel always believe that I "was supposed to be on the guest list. I'm a journalist, for God's sake!" Bjorn bought his ticket from a young, long-haired boy wearing a white T-shirt with red swastikas, and when I asked the boy why he didn't want to go inside, he said he wasn't interested in QOTSA anymore. "Now I like Rammstein," he proudly said. "I'm going to their show in Arnhem next week." "No way," I told him. "QOTSA are playing that show, too. They are invited as special guests. It makes complete sense to me. They have commercial aspirations, you know." Then he slapped himself in the face several times and told me he never wanted anything to do with QOTSA. "You're fucked," I said casually. "These guys will be everywhere and they should be. That's because of their commercial aspirations. They will suck the blood right out of your veins whenever you turn on the radio. They'll be leaking through the stereo. They want blood," I told him. "Blood and souls, and they're hungry." Then the boy ran away screaming.

When Bjorn and I entered the venue, we met Martijn, my KindaMuzik editor, and he asked me to write another pile of knowledge and worthless bullshit on tonight's show. I accepted the assignment and followed Bjorn towards the bar. The place was packed by the time QOTSA took the stage. I was in the third row, and everybody behind me was slam dancing to the opening track. In no time, I was forced to forget about my journalistic expectations and suddenly to concentrate intently on surviving while I was being slammed around the place, left to right, in a very rough way. Not optimal for info-gathering. But, on the other hand, I felt no human connection to the other journalists in the venue, except maybe through beer consumption. I know most of them personally and met quite a few in the restrooms, puking on their shoes. Then I smirked at them, as I watched them spilling their fresh beers walking back into the main hall. But enough about the journalists. I'll deal with them when the time is right; but that night I felt it was QOTSA time.

My suggestion to QOTSA is that they make Dave Grohl STAY in the band under ANY circumstances. With or without negotiating, and perhaps even under pressure. Shit, if necessary, glue the fucker onto his drum seat and keep him heavily sedated with illegal medicine so he won't find his way home. And never let him out of sight. The chemistry in the band is perfect. Guitarist/keyboard player Troy van Leeuwen is the man in the back and he should be. Lanegan is a mild but complex personality, and those kinds usually don't need much time in the spotlight. Homme is a very tall redhead with a very weird-looking body; Oliveri is a bald, well-built bull, sporting a long goatee and who looks pretty aggressive, but only if you don't know him. Between Josh and Nick, it is the dark/bright effect, which also shines through in their music. While Josh is pushing great pop chords out of his guitar, Nick spices things up with his punk attitude and his possessed screaming and raving. The set list was good, but safe. The opening salvo consisting of Monsters In The Parasol and Feel Good Hit Of The Summer did the job, but I expected more songs from the forthcoming Songs For the Deaf, because this was a dry run tour. As it was, the absolute winner was a new, up-tempo thing called No One Knows, probably the best song QOTSA has ever written.

Just before midnight, Bjorn poked me in the stomach and said we had to leave and run, in order to catch the last train home. When we arrived at the station, the train had already left. "Oh no, not now," Bjorn said. "My wife is about to have our first child tomorrow, and I can't afford to miss this damn train. I need to be home before daybreak." He made a phone call only to learn that his wife was already dilated to two inches, which freaked him out enough to shut his mouth for the rest of the night. I gave him another can of beer and instructed him to relax while I went to the ATM to get more money for a taxi. "It's all right," I told him. "I just have to make sure that I save the receipt and send it off to the editor of KindaMuzik. He gave me the assignment in the first place, so technically he is responsible for us missing that last train to the South. Besides, that cruel bastard didn't even buy us a beer!" (First I'll have to pay all the stamps for sending this guys his promos and then he whines about not getting a beer just because he's so small I lost him in the crowd... - ed.)

Then we met a guy who had also missed the last train, as he needed to go to Tilburg, which was in our direction. I can't remember his name, so I will refer to him as Goliath. I suggested that we share a taxi, and before he could say anything, Bjorn and I pushed him into a shiny Mercedes 300 Series with darkened windows and a proper black-on-black trim package. I ripped open another can of beer and gave the driver a Queens of the Stone Age CD. He accepted the thing, and turned the volume up to a slap-in-the-face level that was too powerful to ignore. "This is the band we went to see today," I yelled to him, while the engine roared. "They probably will go big time when the new record comes out. They deserve it." Bjorn smiled and grabbed another beer after putting away his mobile phone. "My wife is all right," he said. "Breathing in weird rhythms and stuff. The doctor said he would wait. We'll be home on time." I grabbed the front seat in order to sit up straight, and spilled my beer over Goliath's head. "Jesus, you don't know anything about Kyuss and the Desert Sessions and Joshua Trees, do you?" I asked him nervously, as he closed his eyes, reacting to the subtlety with which our driver was switching between lanes. "And you're a NEW QOTSA fan, right? I can see it in your eyes." He didn't have the guts to say a word. "That's interesting," I said sharply. "What do you think their chances are commercially?"

After a long pause he swallowed and raised his voice. "It is a very cool band," he answered nervously, while checking to see if his girdle was tightened, as the car made another fast screech towards the right lane. The Fear was crawling up his spine. But I wanted the truth out of him. And I had no time for a careful approach. "Goddamn! Give me at least something on the subject here," I yelled. "I have a story to write, for God's sake, and you're not helping me much!" He became very frightened by that time, and his eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull. "Errrmmm, these guys certainly have the charisma, and the new songs sounded great," he quickly said with a tremor in his voice. "OK," I said casually. "You're right. From now on I consider you Good People." After this exchange, the taxi driver watched me nervously through the rearview mirror as I poked Goliath on the shoulder. "Just remain quiet and enjoy the ride, and you will live through this," I said calmly. And Goliath remained quiet.

http://www.kindamuzik.net/live/queens-of-the-stone-age/qotsa-are-those-thugs-from-the-desert-ready-for-the-big-league/1718/
Meer Queens of the Stone Age op KindaMuzik: http://www.kindamuzik.net/artiest/queens-of-the-stone-age