Take all of your favorite rock bands and morph them into three people, throw em’ up on a stage, and then, you will have Muse’s “Simulation Theory” show. With a mysterious ambition similar to Pink Floyd, the heaviness of Metallica, the somewhat quirkiness of Weezer, the occasional funkiness of Prince, and the clean futuristic sounds of U2, Muse delivered what has been argued as being the best show of the year at Boston’s TD Garden on April 10th.
As much as I can (and probably will, deeper into this story) compare Muse to the other great rock bands of this era, I have truly never seen a show quite like the one that Muse put on for their loyal Boston fans. For the better part of two hours, the band put on a hyperactive 80s spectacle of lights, lasers, helmeted dancers, and trippy graphics.
Written in green and in the style of an old computer font, the phrase “we are caged in simulations,” opened the show. A group of extras holding trumpets and wearing light-up jackets emerged, and marched down to the end of the long ramp trailing into the audience. That’s when the crowed was blessed by the presence of the man, the myth, the only person with a cleaner falsetto than Chris Martin, Matthew Bellamy. Bellamy arose from underneath the stage to “Algorithm,” the first song on Muse’s latest album. The instrumentals then slid sleekly into “Pressure.”
Bellamy styled a pair of shades that emitted LED patterns and words, and kept them on for almost the whole two-hour show. I was over-the-moon impressed by the way he could even walk stably in the glasses, never mind his absolute shredding on lead guitar. It was clear that Bellamy is the band’s hype-man, as bassist Chris Wolstenholm and drummer Dominic Howard stood back stone-faced- although no less proficient in their instrumentals and harmonies.
Even as a “hype-man,” Bellamy didn’t do any outward hyping. There was no verbal interaction with the audience, however, the front-man’s guitar carried the constant contact between the band and the crowd. In between songs, Bellamy’s guitar would play a note, and the audience would sing it back. The guitar yelled higher, so did the crowd. It rang lower, the crowed laughed. Maybe we were all being brainwashed by the simulations.
“Uprising” had the crowd chanting along, while “Propaganda” welcomed an army of fists shooting up into the air of the arena. On the contrary, for perhaps the rawest feel of the show, Wolstenholm and Howard joined Bellamy at the circle end of the ramp, as close as they would all get to the crowd, and played an acoustic gospel version of “Dig Down,” a version only heard on the album’s deluxe addition. Lights shot up from the floor, as if to box in the band, and the audience went as silent as they would get all night…which still wasn’t really that quiet.
Throughout the show Bellamy takes the guitar solos up a notch- both in energy and literal volume. His fingers moved so quickly, I stood there in awe wondering how his brain signals could even reach his fingers fast enough, and hit every next note perfectly. He’s the kind of guitar player who makes you wish you could go back to your fourth-grade guitar lesson and take it more seriously.
During “Madness,” one of the band’s biggest hits, the effects died down a little bit. There must be something big coming, I thought. But instead of over-the-top flashing lights and dancing simulations, this number was about the fans. Bellamy took the glasses off and traveled back to the main stage to perform next to his other band members, while graphics on the screen subtly disappeared. Now instead, were snippets of fans singing along in the crowd with the word “Love” fading in and off of the screen. Again, without any outright, verbal interaction, there was a feeling of connection between the band and the fans, as well as between the fans themselves.
After “Madness” came “Mercy,” another song without the overpowering synth. This straight up rock n’ roll anthem had the whole crowd begging for mercy with their hands in the air, reaching up in love and praise for this band like it was the only thing that mattered in that moment. The song completely engulfed all of the lame (for lack of a better word) concert-goers who were not already up on their feet, with the sound of a hiss and a pop, followed by the most confetti I’ve ever seen in my life…and oddly, I’ve seen a good amount of confetti.
The group’s encore of “Stockholm Syndrome/Assassin/Reapers/The Handler/New Born” was a test to see how hard the band could rock and how much head-banging the audience could handle. This more mettle-sounding section of the show was paired perfectly with a huge puppet-like skeleton, looking a little too much like a rock n’ roll white walker. Its arms reached out over and past the band, leaving me to wonder if Bellamy might hop into its palm. It’s a good thing he didn’t, or else we might not have gotten him back.
The show came to an end with fans screaming, as they often do, and the grateful Dominic Howard venturing out past his drum set to bid the audience farewell. The show I had just witnessed stayed processing in my brain for some time, and when I could finally get any words out, the only one I chose to release was, “wow.” Until I sat down to write this.
