Well, I saw them Sunday the 15th, but I’m only just now posting about it. And if you don’t know of MSI, the best way I can describe them is “perverted techno-punk”.
Getting on with it…
They played in Boise at the Big Easy, which is a rather small concert house. As per usual, they sneaked in a couple of opening acts on us, neither of whom were particularly noteworthy. I mostly used that time to smoke, drink, and meet the interesting people who show up at MSI concerts. I should note now that I was wearing a button-down black Hawaiian shirt with this shirt (WARNING: crude language on shirt) underneath.
Then MSI came out and proceeded to totally rock my world. They opened with Faggot, and Little Jimmy Urine (the lead and pretty much sole singer, dont’cha know) came out in a scribbled-up business suit and fairy wings. A few songs in, I decided to participate in the human bumper-car ride known as the mosh pit. That was fun, I tell you what. Especially after a couple of overly-prissy goth girls yelled “WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!” at me. That’s the point of a pit: You’re not watching where you’re going. You don’t want to participate, stand behind someone for padding.
After my brief bit in the pit, I stumbled up to the bar for some desperately-needed water. Lesson learned: hydrate before you mosh. When I was sufficiently refreshed, I returned to the pit area for a new thrill: crowd surfing. I work my way near the front, help a couple of other people up, and yelled “Take me up!” Only when I was up there did I realize I left my cigarettes in my shirt pocket, and the ticket stub was in the cellophane. Crap! I fumble around to see if they’re still in there, and luckily they didn’t fall out. It was then that I noticed Little Jimmy Urine looking right at me, making a “gimme gimme!” gesture with his outstretched hand. So I gave him a cigarette. A couple of songs later, Jimmy proceeded to smoke it rather violently, and then at the end of the song he extinguished it on his tongue and threw the butt into the crowd.
Something else weird was happening, too: people were throwing shoes up on stage. I had known about the spitting*, but shoes? I wasn’t about to toss a shoe up there, but I did have something else to throw: the T-shirt. So I took it off, balled it up, and lobbed it up there (missing Jimmy’s head by inches).
Eventually, the show ended. They didn’t do an encore, but Jimmy came out to autograph stuff and generally BS around. I got my cigarette pack signed (naturally, after he took another smoke and asked for a tip. Me: “I’LL SUCK YOUR TIP!” I knew it’d get him to sign it) and he was signing all the shoes thrown up on stage, but my t-shirt was lying neglected next to the drum set. After I loudly pointed it out to him, he just handed it back to me. Hey, all he had were black Sharpies to sign with. But no sooner did the shirt reach my hands, did I feel someone pulling on it. I look around, and it was this short girl. And she really did want that nasty, sweaty, unsigned T-shirt that badly. What was I to do? I let her have it. Later, I run into her and her sister out in the smoking area. Turns out she’d gotten it for her sister, who’s such a big MSI fan that she’d want a nasty, sweaty T-shirt just because it had been on stage. I got a couple of kisses in return.
Can’t ask for much more for a 12-dollar ticket. I’ll be seeing them again.
*MSI does encourage spitting onto the stage. I learned this when a girl I was on a date with told me this story. She was at a MSI show with a friend of hers. Friend hocks up a loogie and spits it at Little Jimmy Urine. Jimmy catches it in his mouth and stops the song:
Jimmy: It tastes like bacon!
Friend: Oh my God! I had bacon for breakfast!
Disgusting, yes. But hilarious.