The Independent UTSA

Issue date: 4/29/09 Section: Entertainment

My conscience permeated in the current, my mind is just a haze.

(Of course, there was a rather sizzling smell,
Whose foreign nature seemed to ring a bell.
Correlated with smoke, without a doubt,
But cigarette smoke this is not about.)

The punching chords keep me shifting on my feet,
But the similar squeals remind us what it's like "When You Sleep".
If our sleep is really full of such blissful strife,
Then I spent the concert in an montage of the dreams of my life.

The acoustics of the hall weren't the best,
But with My Bloody Valentine, it's hardly something to detest.
When constructing art with waves of noise,
There's hardly any venue whose frame they couldn't destroy.

Many suggest to save the best for last,
A lesson which doesn't make Mr. Shields aghast.
Some say that tales of Shields' hypnosis was full of lies,
The closing track would have them say "You Made Me Realize"...

The second chorus has ended, the solo begun,
A solo that seemed to go for many Suns.
With many deafening roars and a blinding visual show,
My senses were thankful for not being front row.

For ten minutes to a week, I was a mind-melding Spock,
Underwater on a bullet train, barely above the rock.
An occasional screech fools us into thinking it'll end,
But it's really a G Chord that organizes real from pretend.

Shields and Butcher temporarily play Mom and Dad,
Waking us from a dream that really wasn't so bad.
I air guitar to the chords to start off that day,
Natural I call, narcissistic you might say.

But no matter to me, I couldn't care less,
If someone else would want to detest.
Certainly not Joe, who was speechless of what he saw,
An effect that many would call a real Shock and Awe.

It was an experience worth every cent,
A trip to Austin and a soul-selling very well spent.
Joe says it's the soundtrack of the End Times,
If that's true, then I won't fear Death's opening chimes.

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