Xymox - 07/19/1991

Xymox 1992

Would you look at that ticket?! No, that's not a bad print job from Ticketmaster and it's not an attempt to preserve the fading ink either. I mentioned before that July, 1991 was a pretty good month for concerts and I wasn't kidding. The problem was, we couldn't afford to go to all of these shows (especially if we were going to be buying t-shirts!) so sometime around early July we got wind of a pretty common trick to sneak into shows on the cheap.

There was a laser light show every weekend at the Bishop Planetarium that offered the cheapest ticket that Ticketmaster sold. The ink used on these tickets at the time was not only heat sensitive (don't leave tickets in the car!) but it was susceptible to the common rubber eraser. Since we felt like we had been supporting these bands in as many ways as we could afford (and at least in the Thrill Kill Kult's case, we wanted to see the spectacle WITHOUT supporting a band we thought was headed downhill with their album Sexplosion!,) we started buying these Bishop Planetarium tickets, erasing the writing on them, and then penciling in the details for the show that we DID want to see.

My teenaged life was rebellious and full of curfew-breaking and funny haircuts but also surprisingly free of trouble with the law or other authorities. This, however, was one of my greatest transgressions: I forged $3.75 tickets to avoid paying for $9.50 tickets! The only reasons this worked were the facts that Ticketmaster hadn't started using those barcode readers yet at most venues and that people getting paid $8.00 an hour to check IDs and rip tickets at the Ritz could really give a shit, anyway.

Now I was not a long time fan of Xymox in 1991. That is to say, I was there to see the cheesy, synth-poppy version of Xymox and not the gloomy Clan of Xymox version. I loved me some pusedo-Pet Shop Boys at the time and I still had fading ties to Erasure so the very uncool, ungoth Xymox disco show was right up my alley. There was a really forlorn looking old school bat-fiend in the audience who was still holding out hope that the band was going to somehow shed their bright colors, don the black and spiderwebs, and bust out a rendition of "Muscoviet Mosquito". Needless to say, that didn't happen (at least not until the disco Xymox money train dried up and the band went back to the goth pay dirt a couple years later) but the encounter gave Dave and I a kind of goth rallying cry for the rest of the year. To this day, a lonely, desperate voice calling out "Muscoviet Mosquito" in the darkness plays over and over in my mind when I see people pining for a band well-past its prime to play 20 year old songs.