Last night at the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club (BRMC) show at the Theatre of the Living Arts (TLA) I finally figured out how to disable the ineffectual little flash on my Blackberry and get improved (though not good, on the standard of iPhone or Android cameras) cameraphone shots of a rock concert. My results are posted below to enrich the growing meme of this kind of photography which are fantasmagoric abstractions that can be best described as various sorts of fireballs or pyrotechnic sorcery. Thank god for smoke machines and laser light shows. (For the full effect, I'd suggest playing the BRMC video below and you'll have a scant notion of what it was like having your face melted by this throwback rock band.)
As powerful as this experience must have been, you'll never understand what it was really like to stand behind the mid-Atlantic's tallest BRMC fan:
Or to meet a banging, tatted-up pixie in the crowd who reveals herself through a series of cryptic answers to be an FBI field officer under cover on the tail of a dangerous underworld kingpin, both huntress and hunted BRMC fans. Last night was rock and roll!
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