100 Monkeys

A few weeks ago, the main editor of the magazine I work for came rushing into the office, glee in her eyes, dashing right to my friend K. She had heard from a friend that 100 Monkeys was touring. They were coming to Florida. K jumped to her computer, typing faster than normal fingers normally navigate a keyboard, and discovered that yes they were - they were coming to Orlando. Our Town. She might actually get to meet him.

Now, before I continue, I should probably let you know who 100 Monkeys are, if you haven't heard of them. The L.A. band features none other than Jackson Rathbone of Twilight fame (he plays Jasper). K isn't "Team Edward" or "Team Jacob," she's "Team Jasper."

Right, so that night I got us the tickets (I had to be her wing man, plus, I was curious), and last night we went to the show. And, guys, it was pretty epic.

I hadn't been to The Social in a while. I always liked the venue because it's small, quaint - wooden bars and floors create a grungy feel, and you can actually make eye contact with the band. Waiting in line, K and I realized something not so surprising: the crowd was 98% female. All ages, too, not just 15-year-olds - you had your moms dragging their 5-year-olds by the hand, your 40-year-olds wearing Cullen t-shirts. The thing was, K actually likes the band, so we felt a bit better about ourselves.

Rather than dashing to the front of the stage like the starry eyed 15-year-olds did, we took a seat on a ledge towards the back. We were far enough not to get bumped into, yet close enough to see everything. The goal of the night was for K to simply say hi to him. Easy enough. We had our feminine charm, we were at least of age.

The first band came on and they were, well, not so great. Once they got off stage, we wandered to the side so K could look at the merchandise. When I was younger, this was my favorite spot to stand during shows. I was never trampled on, and I was high enough (stage level) to actually see. As we stood, chatting and sipping our drinks, none other than Mr. Rathbone walked buy not three steps away, guitar in hand.

K grabbed my hand. Our target was spotted.

They stayed onstage for a bit, but then beelined back behind the red curtain, separating the regular people from the V.I.P. Incidentally, it seemed like to be male was to be V.I.P., because whenever a band exited the stage, the ratio of women to men greatly climbed.

The second act was simply okay. He was a solo act; he looked cute and innocent, but then this from-the-depths-of-hell voice came out of him, screaming lyrics. Thankfully, that was only for the first two songs. While he strummed, two members of the first band came by and thanked K and I for coming to the show. They were nice, relatively cute, so I tried to be the proper wingman for K. She is single after all, and I am not. Plus, maybe they could get us backstage. But, alas, her mind was elsewhere, and I think they knew. Because after speaking with them for a bit, one sighed, "So, are you guys here to see the Twilight guy, too?"

Yikes.

Thankfully, we found them later in the night and promised to see another one of their shows. We're not bad people, after all.

Finally, 100 Monkeys came on and as Rathbone took the stage, the swarm of girls crowded the left side, salivating over him. Smartly, we moved our way to the crowd, but stayed on the right side. Two people were between us and the stage - why wouldn't we stand over there?

Now, I hadn't heard their music before, but I must admit - I was pleasantly surprised. They were good and I mean, really good. Each member was incredibly talented, as they rotated instruments throughout the performance (and rotated positions on stage-take that 15-year-olds). No one person was simply a guitarist, they were also a bassist, drummer, keyboard player, singer, etc. They also had a harmonica, trumpet and, oh yes, mandolin. And they could sing! Color me impressed!

In the end, what I liked most about them was that each song sounded different. A common sound connected them, but each song had a unique style and I loved that because, typically, I get very bored at shows. Every song sounds the same. There's never any surprise. Here, I was surprised.

In the middle of one upbeat song, I felt something soft against my left shoulder. There, behind me, was a giant dancing banana. Seriously. As their mascot, the banana-clad guy simply danced with audience members. Who was I to say no? So I shimmied around and high-fived my new friend.

After the final encore, the band disappeared behind the curtain. Girls cried, hoping to get their Twilight books signed (seriously), and we wandered around, planning our next move. Although we tried waiting for a bit, the club was closing and we were to leave. But we're locals. We know where bands go next.

Around the corner we walked by the loading dock, where around 10 girls were already lined up. Figuring, "what the heck," we stood around too. It was dark and getting cold, but I didn't want to crush the light in K's eyes. Not yet. I would get this for her.

Not 15 minutes later, clearly aware that a line-up of fans were waiting for them, the band appeared. Smiling. Girls swarmed them at first, so we gave them a moment, but once a clearing opened, I pushed K to the front because I'm a good friend. She said hi - mission accomplished.

After, she got a great picture with the entire band, as well as an autograph. She beamed. As for me?

Who was I to say no to a photo? The guys were all incredibly nice (and, hey, pretty cute). Rathbone (red tie) refused to do photos alone (since they're a band after all) and I really respected him for that. At first I felt bad for the rest of the guys - they had to know that the majority of the audience was only there for him, but then I realized - they are surrounded by women! Lots of them! The Twilight connection must suck, but it DOES get people out to their show.

The guys were perfectly nice, friendly and chatty. They wanted to make sure every girl got a picture, an autograph, a high five. I acted cool getting a picture with them, like the mature 26 year old I am, but as I thanked them and complimented their music, Rathbone said "cheers, darling," and I just know my face turned red. I may be 26, but part of me will always be that small, shy 16 year old just waiting for the bassist to say hi to me.

And it was worth it in the end, because I might not have heard their music otherwise. I went home with a smile on my face and the desire to listen to new music.