It was almost surreal to look down at the hundreds of people singing a song about genital herpes, lead by a man wearing a hat with ram horns.

But what should I have expected from a Les Claypool show?

Actually, I had no idea what to expect. We were speculating before the show as we listened to Vaudeville-esque music against the backdrop of three photos of Claypool. Was he going to fly in overhead? Would he appear on stage with a bang! in a cloud of smoke?

The lights went down and we all cheered as two percussionists, one horn player, and Gabby La La came on stage. We waited a moment for the grand entrance of the Colonel. I braced myself for the theatrics.

There were none. Les just kind of sauntered onto the stage, grabbed his bass, pointed to the crowd, and had at it. It was really bizarre to have Les Claypool like eight people away from me, doing his thing.

But then the crowd started moshing, and I, having a few bad moshing experiences, saw an out when two of the girls in our group decided to find a spot where a) we wouldn't get elbowed in the jaw and b) could breathe a little. We went up to the second level and could see everything (for awhile) and had a lot of room to move. (They danced, as Clay put it, "like camp counselors." It got kind of obnoxious.)

So there I was, second level, looking down at fucking LES CLAYPOOL rocking the brains out of the place. I had completely forgot about his bizarro theatrics and weird stunts until he left the stage during an insane percussion solo (thanks to Mike Dillon) and returned wearing a pig mask. It was like I had just learned it -- OH YEAH -- Claypool's fucking weird as hell. It was so awesome. He just stood there in his pig mask playing an electric upright against Gabby La La's sitar. He left again amidst another Mike Dillon vibraphone percussion solo and returned wearing a monkey mask, playing this instrument that I can't remember the name of, but basically it's a string attached to a pole with a whammy bar.

Wait, let's go back to this percussionist. I have NEVER seen percussion like this, this guy was insane. Yeah, he used four mallets at a time on the xylophone, but he was going at that thing faster than I've ever heard, and then he'd drop them and whip around and do an insane drum fill, and then bam! he's on the vibraphone again, all in the matter of seconds. It was truly a spectacle.

Les Claypool himself was ridiculously normal. I expected weird anecdotes and bizarre voices, but he talked about his upcoming movie and his broken pinkie and method actors and whatnot like it ain't no thing. Really really normal, standing there in his long-sleeved t-shirt that said FANCY.

He closed the show with a wave and walked offstage. Eventually he came back to play one more song, sporting ram horns. "Every once in awhile," he said, "something happens to you that really inspires you to create great art. This is a song about genital herpes."


Being the fan that I am, by default I have to say that the Red Hot Chili Peppers was the best show I've ever seen, but really, really, I think it may -- MAY -- have been Les Claypool.