MUSE: Los Angeles Staples Center 9/26/10
Growing up, my parents used to wake me up every Sunday morning to go to Catholic church. For me, church was not a particularly enlightening experience. I mostly would end up feeling depressed because of the priest’s fervent insistence that we are all doomed sinners, and that no matter how much we resisted, sinning is in our hearts. What was worse was that I am a girl, and it was made very clear that women are the biggest sinners of all, evil from the core, tempting man into all sorts of heathenism.
But last night, as soon as Muse took the stage, a rush of unfamiliar spirituality flowed over me. Each one of those hot Brits was like a firecracker set off by an intense dosage of raw talent and rock stardom. Little did I know that I was in store for two full hours of heart stopping, life changing redemption.
The show opened with each of the three members on their own individual platform, towering high above the crowd. We all gawked as they riotously performed Uprising. We were their congregation, powerless to the force of their message. Two people a few rows over from us consistently bowed down to them as if the band was their own personal deity. My body became riddled in goosebumps as beads of sweat sprang from my forehead while they powered on with hits like Supermassive Black Hole, Time is Running Out, Hysteria, and Starlight. My jaw was basically on the floor the entire night as I drooled in an awestruck stupor. Perhaps the most inspired moment in the evening was during an extended version of Unnatural Selection, where it became the song that wouldn’t end. Every time you thought it was over, they would add-on another mind blowing instrumental jam out. Then you began craving more, you didn’t want it to end, and you started thinking it might not be so bad to stand here and listen to this song until the end of time.
During Plug In Baby, enormous eyeball balloons dropped from the ceiling of the section we were in. Bulbous inflated peepers bopped along the vibrating crowd. One was right above me, and as I had my camera to my own eye to take a picture, it descended upon me like an overgrown, menacing exercise ball. The balloons combined with the lights and the music and the energy of the electrified stadium sent a wave of otherworldliness over my overwhelmed being.
The one disappointment was that they did not perform Map of the Problematique, which I pretty much listen to on a daily basis to give me the strength to carry on with my existence. After each song I would think, please please play it, but unfortunately it did not happen.
Muse closed the show with a soul gushing rendering of Knights of Cydonia. The galloping beat took me to a futuristic Renaissance era, where I was a knight about to spear the chest of my armored rival, only my horse was made of steel and I was omnipotent against the attacks of my foe. Drums pounded, electric guitars blared, and Matthew Belamy’s words pummelled the room like massive sea waves crashing against jagged crumbling cliffs. When it was over, I felt exhausted, as if my body had just been rocketed into space and left to free fall for hours.
Muse will make you feel emotions you will be unable to describe in words. They will awaken a sense of hope not only in your own little life, but on a galactic level for life forms on other planets that won’t even be born until thousands of years from now. Because in their presence, everything is possible and the universe is there for the taking at your beat stomping feet.
Why I really wanted to hear Map of the Problematique. I can’t get enough: