Seether.


Point/Counterpoint review, featuring curmudgeonly yet indulgent boomer dad and alt-metal indoctrinated teenage son.

By Hunter and Tim Jones
 
We arrived during Seether’s set. From outside, the arena throbbed with a seismic wash of bass-heavy rawk. Checking my dignity at the door, I had an inappropriately intimate encounter with the security guy. The Lyle Lovett show wasn’t like this.
 
Son was turned away because his trendy watch chain was too weapon-like. Upon stashing the “weapon” under a rock, we entered the Decibel Dome.
 
Dad: I liked Seether better than I thought I would, but I like old people with acoustic guitars better.
 
Son: I know, dad. I prefer young people playing electric guitars. Loud ones.
 
Dad: Breaking Benjamin’s set was a ham-fisted sludgefest totally lacking all subtlety, nuance, or sense of dynamics. This stuff is brain-hammering derivative grunge-metal for teen lemmings.
 
Son: Dude, Breaking Benjamin was awesome. They rocked. I wanted to climb stuff and mosh shirtless. Why didn’t we get floor tickets?
 
Dad: Three Days Grace is no Joni Mitchell. They sure get everybody doing that devil-horn hand thing in unison, though. Dang, these kids sure are into that song “Pain,” where the word “pain” is projected in 30 foot letters behind the band. Jeez, these kids don’t know the meaning of the word: How many of these darn emo kids ever had to pay for health insurance? Insurance companies, there’s your “pain” (without love.)
 
Son: Dude, “I Hate Everything About You” and “Animal I have Become” rocked!
 
Dad: How did they rock?
 
Son: Dude, many ways: hard, well, a lot, awesomely. (Screams “Blaaaaaah!”)
 
Dad: The guy played an Alice in Chains song he says he grew up listening to. Like, kickin’ it old school. I am now officially 500 years old.
 
Son: Dude! That totally rocked!

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