Desiree Koh:
An hour after the openers packed up and the bastards were still not out.
Desiree Koh:
Every touring band worth their salt needs a plump, pasty roadie like this who is likely the smartest man on the planet.
Desiree Koh:
Fans onstage, fans offstage.
Desiree Koh:
And here they come, still looking kempt.
Desiree Koh:
Skinny ties, bowler hats, skinny jeans -- to be young, British and in a loud pop band.
Desiree Koh:
Drummer guy. I don't know most of their names or the titles of their songs, but I know they sound good.
Desiree Koh:
Cresting the crowd, just three songs in.
Desiree Koh:
He beat the shit out of those percussion accoutrements.
Desiree Koh:
Poor battered tambourine.
Desiree Koh:
Off comes the tie.
Desiree Koh:
In recent years, one thing that strikes me is the growing immediacy of digital cameras whipped out as soon as the band takes the stage.
Desiree Koh:
Peanut, the keyboard guy.
Desiree Koh:
I wish I had my pogo stick with me. I mean, these guys bop hard.
Desiree Koh:
A move learned from the Boss.
Desiree Koh:
Then Ricky climbed this scaffolding - that was really neat.
Desiree Koh:
Lots of mic wielding -- I wish I had captured some great shots of the mic slinging. To be this energetic and rule the stage with a wired mic -- that's brave.
Desiree Koh:
Slashing guitar dude.
Desiree Koh:
The angry mob appreciates this.
