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By Wyatt Earp | December 30, 2006

Lead singer Richard Butler. God.

Greatest. Band. Ever.

I’m exhausted (four hours sleep), have a headache (too many cups of Guinness), and lost my voice (screaming and cheering through the entire concert); but I would go to The Psychedelic Furs concert in Asbury Park, New Jersey tonight if I had tickets. In my humble opinion, they are the best band in the world today.

And boy, do they put on a show.

Unfortunately, Lou, Badger, and Jen the Librarian missed it. Lou cancelled at the last minute – as per usual – because he couldn’t get a sitter. Of course, he had two months to search for one, but that’s another story. Badger had a better excuse: he was sick. And not just sick; he was “vomiting and pissing out the ass.” That’s a direct quote. Classy.

Vinnie picked me up around 7pm. After a stop at Badger’s house to drop off their (later unused) tickets, we sped down to The Troc at 10th & Arch Streets. The line was two blocks long . . . and we were at the rear end of it. Speaking of rear ends, we met Deathlok, his hot wife, Grimjack and his brother there. After being searched for weapons – why do I always get searched by a big, burly guy, instead of a hot little blonde mynx – we entered the venue and made a beeline for the bar. Guinness on draft = shiny happy people! As we were talking and drinking, I get a tap on the shoulder. I turn around and see Carolyn, the hottie bartender from our Quizo nights. We talk for a bit and she buys me a Guinness . . . even though I barely touched my current one. I love that woman.

The opening act came on stage, and after about five minutes, we tuned out, They were brutal. Deathlok’s hot wife then planned our Furs strategy: “Right after the opening act leaves the stage, we make a line to the front of the stage.” Believe it or not, it worked. The pictures on this post were taken with Vinnie’s camera phone from about a foot and a half. “We must be in the front row!” We were also about seven inches from two towering amplifiers – hence the deafness and ringing today.

The Furs came out and opened with Heartbeat, followed by Into You Like A Train. One added benefit of this Philly stop was that they brought their sax player. Many Furs songs utilize the saxophone, and this guy rocked the house. Ever the good friend, Vinnie called Badger during a few of the songs, to let him hear what he was missing between bouts of explosive diarrhea. Most of our favorites were on the playlist, including President Gas, Alice’s House, and Imitation of Christ. And as if to shove the stake into Badger’s heart, Richard Butler belted out a terrific rendition of Sleep Comes Down – Badger’s favorite song. Heh.

India was the last song of the night – it was one of their two encore songs – and the crowd left the theater more than happy. We stayed a while to avoid the traffic and to try and wrangle some cool freebie like the handwritten playlist, to no avail. We did, however, strike up a decent conversation with the sax player – very nice guy – who also plays in a band called Liquid Soul.

Considering my mood as of late, this was some much-needed medicine. The Psychedelic Furs. Greatest. Band. Ever!

Bassist Tim Butler. Demigod.

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