--------------------------------------------------------------------- T H E G A R Y N U M A N D I G E S T (by subscription only - to unsubscribe, see bottom of this message) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (#2001-97) - Topics This Issue: 1) Telekon:Remember I Was Vapour 2) Support Hose 3) Saturday, 4/28/01, Chicago 4) Friday, 4/27/01, Cincinnati 5) Digest (05/14/2001 18:01) (#2001-96) 6) support acts,Telekon ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Mon, 14 May 2001 20:33:24 -0400 From: "Umbra" Subject: Re: Telekon:Remember I Was Vapour The version on Asylum 2 (box set) sounds like the original to me. The version on the BB re-release from a few years ago sounds like it's missing the lead synth part. I don't know for sure... Kevin ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 15 May 2001 06:54:59 +0400 From: The Tik-Tok Man Subject: Support Hose At every Numan gig I've been to, I was always one of those who totally ignored the support, preferring to down another few pints at the bar and mingle with the Numanoidz instead. I heard that once Gary supported himself. Is that true? TikTokMan Moscow ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 14 May 2001 23:16:38 -0500 From: "Val & Ben Iglar-Mobley" Subject: Saturday, 4/28/01, Chicago My nerves were electric with anticipation. Val and I had just seen his fantastic performance the night before in Cincy, and now Gary was going to play our home town. We both decked ourselves out in black lace in honor. We were only attending these two shows and we were hoping "ours" would be something special, maybe a little extra. Gary was not going to disappoint. We packed in tight toward the front with the others from the pre-show dinner, enjoying the ornate detail on the double balconies around the House Of Blues main floor. We were pretty close together even before the first opener and we were dreading how the crowd was going to crush forward when Gary took the stage, and we'd withstand any moshers. I joked with Jim Napier that the concert goddess had to grant us a reprieve from the drunken assholes. It wasn't long before Grand Theft Audio started. The enormous grandma's crazy-quilt curtain rolled aside as they blasted their opening song. I couldn't make out most of the words but he seemed to be screaming "We love you!" while the bassist and guitarist echoed "LOVE!" If they were loving us, it seemed to me to be pretty tainted love. With their amps at full throttle, not playing notes nor melodies so much as sound, and not fronted by a lead singer so much as a lead screamer-- they became less a band and more of a rhythm combo. No melody, no music, no words, no singing, they were all just keeping a beat, but I must admit they certainly were rhythmic. Their vocalist was baiting the audience nonstop between songs, making rampant cocksucking references, and even climbing down off the stage and roaming the crowd to get even more "in our faces." He both looked and acted like he was trying to channel the spirit of Johnny Rotten. Some singers prowl a stage like caged animals; this one had gotten loose from his. I turned to Val and said, "Do you think he'd safe? Should he be out without a leash?" After their Beastie-Boy-cover finish (which got some of the crowd shouting along, I don't know why. What kind of overlap is there between Numanoids and Beastie-ites?) I had to wonder-- are they punk, metal, or rap? I guess it doesn't matter. They're loud. I found the film sequence for Gwenmars' set distracting and a little annoying. I kept wondering what the imagery had to do with the music, and with it timed to their set it made it obvious how little spontaneity they could inject into their set. They did sound great, though. In fact, they sounded even better than the last night. After they finished I turned to Mark Hubbard and pointed out how much better the sound was. "I think that bodes well for Gary's set!" I said. The crowd squeezed in together, but not much. There wasn't anywhere for us to go. The servers stopped circulating from the bar. We were getting eager. We started cheering during one long pause in the taped music, thinking he was about to start. As that quilt rolled back, the roar went up in earnest. The band walked on through the thundering, and the opening strains of "Pure" rolled over us. Gary strode onto the stage, met with a cheering wave of applause and upraised arms, mine among them. He stood at the edge, daring us to reach for him, ignoring the attempts, poised on the brink of chaos. He glowered through narrowed eyes. "I want to be your animal," he growled, and we roiled in throat-numbing salute. The sound was pure. It was clean and clear. The system screamed his whispers. I was in ecstasy. The audience was lapping up every song and howling for more, and Gary seemed charged by it. He was inspired. As "My Jesus" built during its opening, he stood back from the microphone and moan/screamed at it, as if suddenly afraid of the horror he was creating and his voice was the wail of a soul lost inside the darkened mists of his own unfolding. I've never experienced a more intense performance, just for sheer power. I think Gary that night drove the final nail in the coffin where he laid his naysaying fans who've dismissed his new sound as derivative; there could be no doubt Gary's full being was committed into his music now. And his setlist varied from the night before only in the order he was taking the songs. I thought of those among us who've whined about what songs he's chosen at various times and I was glad he'd trotted out his standards to mix in with the Purity. They sounded perfect and revitalized inside their new industrial treatments. To hell with those few who can never be satisfied. They're never satisfied anyway. The one thing I will say about the set: with this crowd eating out of his hand, and with his blood coursing through his verses, I think he could've gotten away without playing "Cars." Could've, but he didn't put it to the test. Some people were yelling out requests, though I suspect that was just from habit. I didn't hear any disappointment in their voices. I have to give one of those idiots credit, though: he accurately redubbed Gary. Gary is no longer the New Man. Now he's the Nuanimal. I was flailing and thrashing for each song, my feet planted firmly in place so as not to hit anyone around me. I had a couple short women (one of them Mark's girlfriend Jenny) in front of me so I had plenty of room to roll my head. I finally realized that everyone else was being cool with each other as well; nobody was moshing. I guess the concert goddess heard my request. I think Gary must've enjoyed tackling Steve Harris the night before. During "I Can't Breathe" they were chasing and lunging at each other until Gary grabbed him again and toppled them both down. Gary'd even headbutted David Brooks. We ate it up. It was a great release of all the pent-up tension and energy we were feeling. The one down note for me came during the encore. Someone next to me tapped my arm and I looked over to see Val being dragged from the floor by some big bouncer. I went after them and I was ready to hurl my scrawny bod into harm's way to protect her from this lumbering ox (for whatever good I might've done) all the while trying t get an answer from him to what was going on. He gave me a murderous look and said, "You'd better let go of my arm!" I let go. It turned out they'd seen her mini tape recorder and wanted her tape. It was disappointing, but our recorder gets rotten sound anyway. She was rattled, but we went back onto the floor to listen to the final "Prayer For The Unborn." The lights came on and I felt fully spent. Gary's given an amazing performance. Val and I joined Jim and Mark and Jenny with the crowd looking for the tour bus. After quite a bit of searching, Mark found it underground next to the loading docks. We waited in line with everyone for a long time, my mind again completely blank for what to say to Gary. Val said, "Ask him a question, Ben, then you can just listen to him talk!" Gemma even went down the line with a video camcorder. If you ever see the tape, I was the idiot babbling, "I think we had some people who came here tonight as fair-weather fans... and are leaving as hardened numanoids! It was THAT good!" We got up to the bus... and once again I just about collapsed when I saw him. I said, "Mr. Numan, you played an incredible concert tonight!" He said, "You were with us last night, weren't you?" (He remembered! He remembered!) "Yes, I was," I exclaimed. "I was at the Cincinnati show, but the sound here was SO much better! It was perfectly clear." "Oh, really?" he mused. "That's good to know. I don't hear it the way you lot do. It comes to me through my pickup and it always sounds just fine to us. So that's good." 'Ask a question!' I said to myself, 'Ask a question!' "I've often wondered," I asked, groping, trying to form coherent sentences while locked in his gaze, "what's your favorite of your own songs?" He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Oh, gosh, that's hard to say. There're just so many. I don't know. Of course I always like the newest ones the best, so we'll just set those aside. There're just so many! Of course, 'Cars.' That one's worked for me a long time. 'Down In The Park,' of course. You know, 'Absolution' I'm quite proud of. My experience of my songs is different from everyone else's. When I hear it I remember how it was for me to write it, whether it was a good experience or not. 'Absolution' went rather well, so I'm proud of it. I came up with the melody in the morning and by about two o'clock it was done. Oh, here's one that's not as well known: 'This Is My House.' I like that one. And 'A Dream Of Siam.'" I hardly wanted to stop him-- I could have listened to him all night-- but I just had to interject, "Oh, I love that song! The instrumental beginning is just so beautiful. I was so glad Terre Thaemlitz picked that for his album." That got me to think of another question. "What did you think of his tribute?" "Oh, well," smiling again, "I'm not allowed near him! I've never met him. Some people just get way too serious about the music and lyrics, and they read all this into it! I don't know." Val chimed in at that point. "Gary, I just want to tell you something. Ben introduced me to your music and I've really become a fan myself just in the last few years, but listening to it with Ben, hearing him explain what the lyrics mean to him, even the instrumentation and the electronics, has really helped me see into and appreciate the dark side of him. Your music has been an important part of our relationship and our marriage." I had no idea she was going to say that. I felt really sheepish. Gary said, "That's a good thing, I hope!" "Oh, definitely!" I exclaimed. "It's true. I've connected with your music on a deeply personal level. With your artistry you've given voice to experiences for a lot of people who would otherwise find none." One of his tour people interrupted us at that point. "I'm sorry, folks, but there are a lot of other people here!" I said, "Oh, sorry, I don't mean to monopolize your time!" (Yes, I do! Yes, I do!) Gary was so friendly and self-effacing. "Oh, it's all right. I'M the one going on and on!" "Well," I conceded, "I've probably been gushing but I hope you can forgive me. To quote from 'Blade Runner': 'It's not an easy thing to meet your maker!'" Gary laughed and I could tell he'd got it. (He laughed! At MY joke!) We asked for a couple more photographs and we stepped away from the bus. I said to the tour person, "Sorry to hold things up, but I certainly wasn't going to cut him off!" He smiled. As we stood and chatted with other fans, my legs started shaking. I was able to stay upright this time, though, even if I did have to lean on the bus. We took one more picture in a large group of the people who had sat together at the pre-show. Then we packed it in. I got in Jim's car to guide him to Val's and my house where he was staying for the night. He even said he'd let us copy the tape he'd made of the concert to make up for Val's being confiscated. Val teared up and hugged him. On the drive Jim said he thought that was the best turnout yet for this tour. And that the pre-show was definitely the biggest one yet. I told him this tour had been the first time I'd ever met another numanoid in person. At dinner Mark had been describing the experience of first getting to meet another numanoid, how it's always a great relief at not being "the only one." For me, this tour definitely gave me a wonderful feeling of connection to Gary's other fans. I'm in love with every numanoid in the world. And it has reminded me exactly why I am a fan in the first place. ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 14 May 2001 18:09:39 -0500 From: "Val & Ben Iglar-Mobley" Subject: Friday, 4/27/01, Cincinnati You've probably read plenty of accounts of the concerts on this tour-- plus you, dear reader, have probably seen your own share of Gary's shows. But this tour has been special for me, so indulge me a little and let me gush at you for a while. Val and I left at noon for the five hour drive from Chicago down to Cincinnati, planning to make it in plenty of time for the pre-show. We hadn't, however, planned on traffic getting out of Windy, traffic and construction around Indianapolis, and getting lost twice. We finally found Bogart's just a few minutes after the scheduled show time. At the box office window the woman ahead of us was having trouble getting a ticket and we had a flicker of nerves that they were sold out and we wouldn't be getting in, but I guess she was trying to angle a freebie or something because she walked away disappointed but we got in. Whoever was first on the bill had already started. The audience was still pretty spread out and Val and I hung back sitting at a table as I eyed the vendor table. I was half-listening to the band; they sounded like a typical punk outfit-- fast, loud, aggressive, tight, unpolished. It made me think about how Gary started out and I wondered if I would've been able to recognize the seeds of his genius if I'd heard any of the Tubeway Army performances. I think it would've gone right past me then. They wrapped their set and the crowd in front of the stage thinned ever further as some people left to get drinks. I told Val it was time to make our move. I don't really mind slipping past people at concerts if there's empty space to be filled in front of them, and we were able to get pretty close. We talked briefly with a yuppie-looking couple who'd brought a very dog-eared 'Telekon' vinyl for Gary to sign, but they seemed more interested in talking about other bands they'd seen recently and in the mood I was in I just didn't want to hear about anyone else. I spotted a guy right at the front who looked like he was fielding questions from a bunch of people around him. Better yet he was wearing a t-shirt with a design off the "Heart" single cover. I figured that HAD to be a numanoid in the know, not just a fair-weather fan. He saw me eyeing him and he smiled and waved. So I approached him ostensibly to ask if he knew where Gary was going to be signing after the show, but really to just be around another die-hard who'd understand. I found out he was none other than Jim Napier. "Hey!" I exclaimed, "You're staying at our place tomorrow night!" I introduced Val, who was busy trying to shake off a clingy obnoxious guy trying to put the make on her. (I don't know why she seems to draw these types. Must be the sweetness in her look.) Jim had positioned himself right at the fence below the stage and he showed me the tape recorder he was using to capture the tour. As the lights dimmed for the second opener, I'd completely forgotten that I'd muscled my way up front and probably should've moved back. I'd never heard Gwenmars, never even heard OF them, and their drum-bass-guitar-singer arrangement lowered my hopes. I was surprised to see two support acts for a Gary tour and nary a synth between them. But I must say I was impressed. They played actual notes and melodies, not just audial bombast. Their music showed some range and creativity, despite the straightforward instrumentation. When they finished, Val said she was ready to pick up their disc. Later, of course. We were not moving from the space we'd staked out. I was jittery with anticipation. I wondered what the opening bands portended about the sound he'd have for the tour. I wondered what of the older songs he'd play. Would the crowd get restless during the new ones? The lights went down. From the moment the music began, all my questions were silenced. At first I was a little startled by his spartan outfit. I'd loved his coat and velvet shirt on the 'Exile' tour. But that tour was an even mix of goth and industrial. Tonight Gary was in a black t-shirt, a black strapped and buckled corseted harness, black pants, and black strapped-up boots. The look was pure industrial, and it suited the music, literally. With his black arm bands he looked like he'd just gotten off his shift on the assembly line working the rivet gun. And that maybe he's been working there a bit too long. Now the machine had become part of the man. He screamed and flailed and thrashed his way across the stage, like he couldn't wail his desperation intensely enough. Then during quieter moments in the songs he'd stand at the edge of the stage, glaring out at us as if to say, "What are you going to do with what I'm giving you? Do you even understand?" I think some of us did. We shrieked ourselves into apoplexy. To the letter he perfectly alternated between first a 'Pure' song and then an older song. And they fit in flawlessly in sound, even better than on the 'Exile' tour. His adaptations gave themselves up to his industrial abandon without holdout, as if to show the seeds of this sound that had lain there all along. Steve Harris was insane, and he looked it in his make-up, microhawk cut, and net shirt. He and Gary shared the stage like circling predators. Finally it was too much. During the finale of "I Can't Breathe," during the closing of the song when the instruments sound like a bell Gary has hung over our heads and is rhythmically gonging us into submission, Gary grabbed Steve from around his back and slammed him down onto the stage. The two of them finished the song there, writhing and rolling as Steve sawed at his guitar laying across him. The crowd was in fits. The drawback to playing across the street from a college is the drunken college kids. Not exactly moshing, they were pogoing with enough vigor that they fell to either side. I earned my nickname of "Mr. Wall" standing as a brace against their waves, protecting my Valerie from their onslaught, delicate and precious thing that she is. One asshole shoved his way in front of us during Gary's set and slammed with his idiot girlfriend. He even started getting nasty with Jim and I was ready to jump in and defend him if this primate started anything serious. Ten years ago these same pre-hominids were probably doing the same thing at some hair metal concert. But I decided no way would I let these throwbacks ruin MY bliss at this holy event. I just held them at bay-- and shoved them back when that wasn't enough-- and rolled my head through the glorious cacophonous din. Having wrung the audience out like a damp rag, Gary at last led the exit from the stage. Richard Beasley threw some of his sticks into the crowd and one landed right at my feet. The drunks tried to grab it past me, but I was sober and faster. I snatched that thing up and thrust it under my jacket. Better still, it was partly broken through. One of the other true believers asked to just touch it. I let him. I was in utter awe. Val and I followed Jim as he scouted out where the tour bus was, back behind the theater. I had passed on trying to meet Gary after the 'Exile' tour because I was just too petrified at the idea. This time I was every bit as terrified, but I'd had three years to screw up my courage. I decided I had to at least try. We found where the rest of the crowd was waiting and we hobnobbed a bit. I joked with Val and Jim that if I fainted when I met The Man, could one of them just slip a foot under my head when I feel so I wouldn't crack my skull on the pavement? They both laughed. The wait seemed forever. One of the tour people came out to announce Gary was giving interviews and would be a while. I noticed somebody has the original blue cover 'Tubeway Army' album to be signed. I saw Gemma mingling. The guys from Gwenmars came out to their truck and Jim suggested I get them to sign their cd I'd just bought. But I was saving myself. They weren't the stars I wanted to fuck. Finally they had us line up toward the bus. My head was going light with nerves. Val had been asking me what I was going to say to him and I honestly couldn't think. She offered to take my picture with him; she'd been taking pictures during the concert, she the better photographer than I. We were getting near the front and I could see him intermittently as the fans came up in turn. I could not believe that I was actually about to meet my icon. There was no one else ahead of me. As calmly as I could, I stepped up to the doorway. There he was, sitting on the steps resting his arms on his knees, looking exhausted. I met his gaze and had to fight to maintain my composure. Fortunately I'd picked out ahead of time what I'd wanted to say from the dozen or so comments I'd thought of. "Mr. Numan," I said, "you are my absolute hero! Thank you so much for not forgetting your American fans!" He nodded his head. I was giddy to get just that much acknowledgement. "I don't have anything for you to sign, but could I get a picture?" "Yeah," he whispered, and patted the step next to himself. 'Oh, sit there?' I thought. 'Next to you? Yes, I will, and can I stay here? Forever?' I sat down next to him, fighting back the urge to leap upon him bodily. I turned to face Val and the camera, trying to force an expression that said, 'Can you believe this? Isn't this just the most amazing thing ever?' She snapped it and I turned to thank him, having trouble seeing, though I don't think it was from the flashbulb. I literally had a star in my eyes. I shook his hand and stepped off the bus. Now, I had been joking earlier, but when I joined Val and Jim again... my legs literally started giving way underneath me. I didn't know if they thought I was just making a joke-- and I must admit it seemed pretty funny-- but I whimpered to them, "Oh, my god, I have to sit down!" I just about collapsed onto the gravel. "How was it?" Val asked. I looked up at her and then at Jim who was grinning knowingly. "I can down now," I rasped. "You shook his hand!" Val exclaimed. "What was that like?" I blanked for a moment. "Val," I mused, "you remember when we jumped out of that airplane? You remember how some of the details became sketchy because our thoughts were just one loud expletive?" She smiled. She understood. Val and I just hovered near the bus while the rest of the fans filed through. I told her I just wanted to be near him and soak in his presence. After they'd packed up we thought we'd try to follow the bus back to Chicago, just to stay with it. But they shut off the interior lights and the driver got up from his seat so we figured they were going to rest a while before moving on. We had to go. Exhausted as I was and as tiring as the drive back to Second City was on us, I couldn't have been happier. I thought I was lucky to have gotten to see him return to the states for 'Exile;' for him to come back again so soon was almost more than I could handle, was almost more exhilaration than one body could contain. Almost. Gary, any time you decide to show up on these shores again, I'll be here. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 15 May 2001 01:17:55 EDT From: ImAnAgent9984@cs.com Subject: Re: Digest (05/14/2001 18:01) (#2001-96) In a message dated 5/14/01 5:07:02 PM Pacific Daylight Time, MDaemon@garynumanfan.nu writes: << Tour Recordings >> By chance, did anyone (besides Jim Napier) record any of the North American shows? More specifically I'm looking for the SF show because Jim was unfortunately not there to record it. Can someone help? Anyone? John ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 15 May 2001 09:46:19 From: "William Wilson" Subject: support acts,Telekon Hi! Nash The Slash did NOT play the Glasgow leg of Teletour,it was suppossed to be some one called "James Freud" if I remember correctly,but he didn't play for some reason.Don't forget,Gary decided not to come to Glasgow on a couple of tours(Fury and Sacrifice at least) for some reasons known only to himself,for Scacrifice he said he couldn't find any venues with spare dates to suit the tour(???) PPNM on the re-issue of Telekon is a different version from the original vinal,as are a few tracks on the cd like I die:you die and The joy circuit, apparently Gary did several versions of most of his early songs to get the right feel,that will be why your PPNM has the synth line missing,we all have the same disc so you weren't ripped off,btw if you can get hold of Asylum2 you will get the original versions of all these songs Cheers William (Glasgow Crazie!) _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com ------------------------------ End numan@garynumanfan.nu Digest [05/15/2001 18:01] --------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- T H E G A R Y N U M A N D I G E S T is produced, moderated, and distributed by Derek Langsford, Dave Datta, and Joey Lindstrom dlangs@sunstroke.sdsu.edu, datta@cs.uwp.edu, Joey@GaryNumanFan.NU ------------------------------------------------------------------- To reply to the messages in this list, email: numan@GaryNumanFan.NU If you want to be removed, or someone wants to be added, email: listserv@GaryNumanFan.NU and include this line as the first line of your message body: SUBSCRIBE numan@garynumanfan.nu (email address) or UNSUBSCRIBE numan@garynumanfan.nu (email address) (email address is optional but useful if you have multiple addresses) If you want to switch between receiving Digests or individual posts, again send to listserv@GaryNumanFan.NU and include either of these in your message body: NORMAL numan@garynumanfan.nu or DIGEST numan@garynumanfan.nu ------------------------------------------------------------------ Please note: this mailing list is configured to automatically unsubscribe you if mail to your mailbox goes undeliverable for any reason. 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