Tool Music Clinic – Myth – Maplewood MN – May

I recently attended the Tool Music Clinic at the Myth event center in Maplewood, and in a moment of guilt over the expenditure on that ticket I promised some people that I’d elaborate on my claim that the $500 ticket price was “worth it”. Here it is… hope you’ve got time, because I get wordy.

First off, the number of tickets was limited. Very limited. Only 250 tickets were available for this show, and as of two hours before the show there were still a few tickets available. This meant that the venue was able to set up a seating arrangement that allowed for great sight lines, and every seat in the house was less than 50 feet from the stage. I had never been in such an small, intimate setting for a band that didn’t have to tote their own gear. The small crowd size also meant that there was little to no waiting for anything. It’s possible that this is just a warning sign that I’m turning into a grouchy old man, but I place value on the convenience of not having to elbow my way through sweaty fans to get a beer or peruse the merch table.

The benefit of the intimate setting and well-planned venue configuration was immediately felt. The raw reality of having these three musician just feet away from me, playing the songs that I have listened to, analyzed, internalized, and flowed with for the last 20+ years, was something I can’t really put into words. The closest comparison I could make would be to compare it to performance I attended of Cirque du Soleil’s Amaluna, for which I had seats in the front row. Being that close to the performers, hearing the soft slap of their feet as they hit the floor during their acrobatics routines, watching the subtle cues that they give each other to coordinate their movements – that level of immersion was an entirely new experience for me, and it was the part of the experience that I had not known I was missing. That was the kind of immersion I experienced at last night’s show.

Another thing that I never would have experienced in a standard concert is the opportunity to interact with the band not as a band, but as people. It’s actually entirely inaccurate to call the performance last night a concert – it was, in fact, a clinic. The band went through multiple alternating cycles of performing a song and then taking questions from the audience (one of which was from me, but it came out so awkwardly that I’d rather not repeat it here). The reason this was so satisfying is because the band were so unbelievably approachable and willing to talk. They were clearly having fun up there, and the questions from the audience were more spontaneous than the kinds of questions commonly seen in music magazines and websites. I have always had a strange desire (and I’m sure I’m not alone) to get to know more about the people who write the music that moves and inspires me. This was one of the best opportunities I’ve ever had to do just that.

Here’s a quick recap of how the show progressed, as much for my own memory as for any other reason. First, the show’s host Justin Roberts, formerly the ring announcer for WWE wrestling, gave a brief talk on rules, regulations, blah blah blah, and explained the idea behind the show. Then, as if in an effort to establish the intimate tone they wanted, all three musicians walked into spectator area through the back to a standing ovation, and made their way to the stage through a flurry of high fives and handshakes. The show began in earnest with a beautifully raw performance of The Grudge. It was clear that there was going to be some discomfort at the gaping lack of Maynard’s voice (he is not participating in the clinic), but the crowd, small though it was, chimed in to sing the most important missing parts. The weirdness of the missing vocals wore off quickly, and provided a unique opportunity to further appreciate the remaining instruments. After the first song Adam Jones talked for a bit and fielded some questions from the audience. It was clear that the band were not used to talking to an audience in this manner because the volume of their voices through the house speakers varied based on the way they held the microphone. As the night progressed they got this sorted out, but it was a bit annoying in the beginning. My one regret from the night is that I chose to sneak off to the can right at the time when Justin Chancellor was talking about the personal relevance of the song “Forty-Six and 2”. I returned right as he finished his talk and they then launched into the song. Then another brief round of talking and question, then a ripping performance of Eulogy. I was strangely thrilled when I watched Danny mess up on a part during this song, and visibly laugh at himself while continuing to play at a level I could only dream of. After Eulogy it was explained that later in the night they would show the first half of the music video (done by Adam Jones, of course) for Tool’s re-recording of Opiate. More on that later. Since this was discussion of new material, the band expounded on some of the process they’re currently going through for the recording of their upcoming album, and then, the first new material of the night. Danny Carey began this new piece, for which no title was given, by manipulating a strange, completely custom-looking synthesizer box. After some beautifully dirty synth work, Danny settled the device on a repeating rhythmic pattern and moved to his kit. The entire piece was played only on drums, but for an amateur drummer like myself there’s no greater thrill than watching a full display of skill by the man who is arguably the greatest rock drummer living.

Then began another round of talking and questions. I’m pretty sure this is the point at which I asked my question, and my usual good speaking voice failed miserably as I squeaked out my garbled sentences. I don’t remember exactly how I worded it, but whatever question I asked was answered basically with some version of “that question doesn’t make sense to us, but here’s what we think you want to know.” It was a good-natured answer, and an admirable save of train wreck question.

The band then performed Descending and Jambi, with a Q&A session in between. After Jambi the band took a vote from the crowd on what to do next, and the result was in favor of watching the new Opiate video – well, the first half of it. But before the video could be shown, Adam felt the need both to set it up by giving some background information on the re-recording and video, and by giving a warning about the explicit nature of the content of the video. What they hadn’t told us previously was that the video was to be shown on a 50ish inch flat panel television. Even for a smaller, intimate crowd, that seemed a bit cheap. I was a little surprised that a band at Tool’s level and a venue the size and status of Myth couldn’t scrape together a projector and screen. Maybe there’s more to it than I know, but there was room for improvement there. Once Adam had finished his disclaimer the television was wheeled out to the middle of the stage, the house lights were brought down very low, and… nothing. Technical difficulties. People yawned and snickered, being generally polite, but were definitely anticipating the beginning of the video. Several small flashlight flittered about in the middle of the stage for five minutes before the DVD menu came onto the screen. Adam thanked the crowd for their patience and began playback of a movie called something like “mymovie1”. It was a fun little misdirection prank – the video was the old recording of Opiate with a video edit of the Rankin & Bass “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” Christmas special. He stopped this after about 20 seconds and explained the intended prank, and then began the actual video. Given the content of the video I can understand why he felt the need to give the disclaimer – it was not for the faint of heart. The re-recording of Opiate is nothing short of sensational. There is definitely a rawness about the original that is part of what makes it so special, but the dark, legato grind of the new version invests it with a less hard-edged darkness. I look forward to its eventual release. After the completion of the video the band moved into their final song performance, a seemingly flawless back-to-back execution of parabol and parabola. After the completion of this song, the band each took a turn thanking the crowd for their support and attendance, and the Myth staff directed the audience to the upstairs bar area for the post-show meet and greet.

But before we could go upstairs, we had to get our cell phones unlocked. What? Unlocked? That’s right, a condition of entry was that each attendee had to visibly turn off their cell phone and allow it to be placed in a signal-blocking cloth bag. The phone was then returned to the owner, which they then carried on them until after the show, at which time it was unlocked for them and they were free to use it again. This is the first time I had ever encountered this level of anti-recording security, and I found it both frustrating and understandable. I would have loved to at least record the audio of the entire show, but it was made clear throughout the ticket purchase process that recording devices were not allowed, so I grudgingly complied.

Once I was upstairs, there was enough of a mob around Danny and Adam that I decided to wait for the crowd to thin out a bit. After about a half hour I got through to Justin and got to talk to him briefly, but by that point Danny had already left. Also, at this point the Myth staff was trying to hurry people out of the building – apparently there was some miscommunication between the Myth staff and the Tool management, because the band had been under the impression they would have the building until 2am, and the building staff had been told 11pm. Another thing that should be handled better in the future.

Ten minutes later I made it through the queue to Adam, and got a handshake, a “thank you”, and a pic before being moved along by Myth staff. On the way out the door I picked up one of the souvenirs that was built into the cost of the ticket – an autographed ticket stub for the show. Forty minutes and four White Castles later and I was home, reminiscing and checking on my son.
So yes, I would say that this was worth it as a one-time opportunity to engage in a unique way with a band who so greatly influenced my own musical experience. I feel indescribably lucky to have been in a position to attend such a show – this was the kind of event that many fans might have on their bucket list, and it felt great to see it done well and to get what I wanted from the experience.

Thanks to Jon Pitt for the review.