My friend Dave and I left New Jersey around 1:30 am, technically Tuesday the 25th. I’ll spare the travel log, but let me just give you an overview of the ride there:

We arrived in Chicago around 3 pm, skipped our naps and checked out what the city had to offer. Not knowing much about Chicago, we were fortunate enough to have received a guide prepared by Heather Spear, editor of The Web. We referred to the guide religiously, as it led us to a plethora of indie record shops, clothing boutiques, and book stores, as well as providing us with a full concert itinerary. Later on, Dave ended up going rollerblading in goth garb (go figure... it was pretty funny) while I hung out at the hotel, relaxed and had a short chat with Lou from Black Moon magazine. But on to the show...

The show was being held at the Vic Theatre, only blocks from our hotel. I ended up losing my ticket somewhere along the way so I had to buy another one, which sucked, but it was pretty damn funny regardless. Shortly after entering, Steve Roach opened the evening with a mesmerizing dark-tribal-ambient piece that lasted nearly an hour, which you would think would get monotonous, but it never lost my attention. It was a very surreal composition; loops, digeridoo drones, a backdrop of percussion, and Steve’s occasional tribal groans. I couldn’t tell if it was spontaneous or planned, nor did I care. It was a simply perfect beginning to a sublime evening of music.

Next was Lycia, who I’m sure many of you are familiar with (they played live at Limelight just last summer - Mistress M) and here’s where the real fog kicked in! I’ve seen them live a few times before, and it seems that they’ve revamped the live show a bit, using a more basic format and a different keyboard sound, which took me a little while to get used to. But their set was cool, and I was especially happy to hear some new material of the yet to be released album Cold. Tara said that it looks as if they may be doing some shows over here in the fall, so keep an eye out.

A brief pause... perhaps they had to refill the fog hogs that were set upon either side of the stage... and then, Thanatos, headed by Pat Ogl. Besides fronting Thanatos, Pat sets up most of Projekt’s live shows, so if you see a Projekt show coming your way, you can almost be certain that Pat had something to do with it. Anyway, I was glad to see him perform again, because he’s helped me a lot in getting shows. As with Lycia, Thanatos’ set was also different, featuring a live drummer absent in previous performances. Pat sauntered onto the stage, with a finger to the smile on his lips, looking shoe-ward as the rest of the band played on. Shouts of "Pat!" and "Tuck!" (for William Tucker, who plays guitar for Thanatos’ live shows) were commonplace throughout the energetic and diverse set. I would say the zenith of the entire evening was their final song, a cover of Blue Oyster Cult’s Don’t Fear the Reaper, fueled by heavy drums, distortion, and Pat’s pure angst. Evidently, it was Pat’s birthday...so his closing selection was devilishly appropriate.

Lovesliescrushing were supposed to perform next but cancelled. Michael Plaster (who is Soul Whirling Somewhere) took the stage. I always perceived Soul Whirling Somewhere as the most mysterious band on Projekt; they don’t play live, don’t do compilation work, and don’t get much attention on the label. So you can imagine my surprise when an extremely young and frazzled Michael walked on stage and announced, “Well, it’s time for the boring acoustic set of the evening.” This guy had no self-esteem, but he played beautifully and sang flawlessly, interjecting low self-opinionated comments throughout the set. Finally, we got him to smile when Dave shouted “Michael, you rock!” before his last song. I loved the set; it was very Red House Painters-esque, and most of all, plainly beautiful.

Somewhere in between the chaos of the evening, I was snatched out of the crowd by Lucian of Black Tape for a Blue Girl. We had exchanged letters years ago, and it hadn’t even occurred to me that she would be present at the festival. I was so happy to finally meet her and even more flattered that she went out of her way to find me. We talked for a while, exchanged personal updates, and watched Love Spirals Downwards, the final band of the evening. Suzanne Perry sings in such a way that if you close your eyes, you forget everything; where you are, what you’re doing, what planet you’re on, etc... her voice was dazzling and their sound seemed surprisingly warm and huge, despite the absence of synthesizers. Ryan strummed and picked away as Suzanne cascaded through song after song until the evening was over.

Frankly, we were too tired to go to Neo’s after the show (where Scary Lady Sarah was hosting the after show party) so we returned back to the hotel. We figured it out, and it seems we had been awake for something like 43 hours straight, which I don’t know about Dave, but was a personal best for me. I fell asleep, I think watching either Kids in the Hall or Sex Bytes on HBO.

We woke at 10 o’clock the next morning and headed downstairs to the continental breakfast, where I expected to find a bunch of goths in pajamas, but surprisingly enough, most of those ambitious suckers were all made up already. I felt sorry for them because some had their black lipstick smear on the mini orange juice boxes, and I even saw someone mistake a powdered jelly donut for their compact, ending up with strawberry jelly on their face. (hysterical laughter - Mistress M) I guess it’s the price you pay for wanting to be beautiful.

During our venture through town, we got wind of the crazy old photographer guy Fred Burkhart who supposedly had all this cool Death in June vinyl, so we decided to go to his studio. We got there and were greeted by him, a friend, and Fred’s lizard Jackson who spent a majority of our visit in Fred’s hair and beard. Fred was very cool and really nice, as well as being an extremely talented photographer. We took some pictures with him, he took some of us, and we were on our way.

That night, we headed down to the Vic again for the second night of the festival, and who should show up with his camera? Fred, of course. It was funny because he came in while Attrition was playing (they went on after Steve Roach), and it turns out he used to listen to them years ago! Attrition had a powerful sound, leaning more towards techno at times, and at other, pure industrial. There certainly wasn’t much room to dance, but the crowd did its best to keep moving. Attrition played some older material as well as songs off the new album Three Arms and a Dead Cat. I was overwhelmed by a combination of the fat bass beats, Martin’s rumbling verse, and the pure excitement of getting to see these legends live.

Up next was Sean Bowley of Eden, who turned out to be quite a character. Like Attrition, this was his first show in the states (he’s from Australia). He told me he liked the American audience because “they’re very passionate about their music,&#!48; where in Australia, audiences don’t show much enthusiasm. He played a cool combination of material, unexpectedly backed by a keyboard player and a drum machine. He crooned out dark ballads like Why? in addition to performing some really interesting tribal trance stuff yet to be released. I especially enjoyed when he knocked over the box of raffle tickets while Scary Lady Sarah was doing a drawing.

Projekt’s newest acquisition, Arcanta, performed next, and Christ, did their live set change. When they opened for Lycia in NY last year, it was Brother Tom who sang and Jason Donnelly who pressed a button to start the tape. This time around, they featured live guitar, percussion, and female backing vocals. It definitely impressed me; it was a real difficult set up. Brother Tom’s voice was sublime, holding notes for what seemed to be forever and then some. It was very Middle-Eastern and also very religious, much like chanting in a foreign monastery.

Finally, it was the time everyone had awaited: the debut of Black Tape for a Blue Girl (or as Oscar put it, &#!47;the band that’s been together for 10 years, but has never played out”). I had my doubts, I mean, Black Tape is largely a studio-based project, which is the reason playing live has been virtually impossible. I was doubtful that their warm, rich, emotional, heart-wrenching (need I go on?) sound could be reproduced on the confines of a stage. But I was completely mistaken. I am at a loss for words when it comes to describing their performance.

Besides singing the songs, Lucian and Oscar acted out performance art to them, reenacting the original intent for each. Sam stood at an elaborate electronics station next to Mera who worked intently at her cello. Their set was magical, as they performed old material I had yearned to hear live for so many years: “dark skinned and inviting” from mesmerized by the sirens (1987), “the scar of a poet” from ashes in the brittle air (1988), “the hypocrite is me” from chaos of desire (1990), and “decomposed by the fire of the firmament” from 1992’s this lush garden within.

In addition, they performed the title track from their new album remnants of a deeper purity, and encored with the title track of their 1985 debut the rope, surprising the hell out of me. I was in awe, as I watched on next to Sam’s girlfriend Lisa, who said, “To see Sam’s vision come to life is one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever seen... it’s beyond words.” I could go on, but it would be futile. Some things are so pure and so good that words would only pollute them, and this is one of those things.

The evening ended, we snapped some pictures, and I said my goodbyes to all the folks at Projekt, promising to keep in touch and asking the same in return. The next morning, Dave and I would begin our trek back to the great state of New Jersey (tremendous hysterical laughter - Mistress M)