My Night With the Dismemberment Plan - April 5, 2002
We, my friend jeff and I, arrived at the Princeton University campus 95 min. before show time. We arrived
at the Terrace Club 90 min. before show time. We walked right past the small gathering of fans and up the
stone steps. I opened the wooden door, as if I had been there before, and headed straight towards what I
gathered to be the bathroom. After discovering that it was indeed the bathroom, I exited the room; only to
hear that we were politely asked to wait outside until the doors actually opened.
So I opened the wooden door. We walked back down the stone steps, past the now larger gathering of fans
and stood at the corner of the building opposite the gathering of fans. Two fellow Dplanners showed up and
we, begin debating whether Corey Glover of Living Colour fame was the singer of Sevendust. My friend
Jeff rattles off a wide ranging series of facts aimed at proving that indeed Corey Glover, is not now, or ever
has been a member of Sevendust. He succeeded and a few more Dplanners show up. One of which happens
to be my roommate.
Some time passed and the larger gathering of fans became quite a long line of fans. Our group was growing
as well. We decided that now would be a good time to merge groups. An intersection of sorts, if you will.
However, the 'line nazi' girl thwarted the merge. After much arguing and even some name calling, irritated
shouting and audible sighing, one of our group suggested that I go speak with the gentleman at the door.
I took his suggestion, walked up the stone steps and opened the wooden door. I explained our situation,
"My friend outside said that I should speak with you. As it turns out we have been here for about an hour
and forty-five minutes and we might not get in because we weren't in line. Eric emailed me and invited me
to the show. And I am nervous that we won't be allowed in."
"Well," the gentleman responded, "why don't you just come in now and hang out for a bit. But if you could
tell everyone that we are only letting 70 people in I would greatly appreciate it."
"Woah!" I said. "Thanks, man."
So, I turned around opened the wooden door and walked down the stone steps. I wandered about 2/5 of the
way down the line and yelled the message I was given. The line swayed like a dock line attached to a
motorboat. A few sighs flew into the air. I strode back to my group and said, "However, we can go in,
So we, jeff, my roommate, two fellow Dplanners and I, walked up the stone steps. I open the wooden door.
We sat in a large warm room on plush couches and talked with Jason about tall trees, interactive television,
touring and California.
Eventually, the rather long line of fans began filing into the Terrace Club, which by the way is a tutor house
of sorts. After a few minutes, The Swords Project began to play. ( I will not talk about them for fear of
making this article way too long. . . However check 'em out cause they were great ).
Two or three songs went by and we decided that now would be a good time to head into the 'Rock Room' to
get in optimum position for The Dismemberment Plan. As we rounded the corner, our jaws dropped to the
floor as the entire 'Rock Room' was a thicket of, yep you guessed it, everyone from the 'quite a long line of
fans' and then some.
The Swords Project played 5 or 6 more songs. We had managed our way through the thicket to the far side
of the room. We were able to see The Swords Project's heads and the occasional drumstick.
As The Swords Project thanked the crowd, the thicket loosened like a dock line of a motor boat after
someone has just climbed aboard. My roommate, one Dplanner and I seized this opportunity to weave our
way 5 or 6 rows from the front line. I thought, "this would be as good as it gets."
Planted in the thicket, my roommate and I made some jokes and some friends and made some jokes about
friends and made friends about jokes? Anyway, The Dismemberment Plan ripped into 'Pay for the Piano'.
The thicket tightened like a dock line on the opposite side of a motor boat after someone has just climbed
aboard. My roommate and I tried to get our groove on, but the thicket was simply too thick. There were far
more than 70 people in the 'Rock Room.'
I quickly grew tired of trying to dance inside the thicket, when thankfully I spotted jeff outside on the
terrace watching the show through the glass door. I quickly took advantage of the sparsely populated
terrace and found myself swinging and swaying to the super duper songs of the DC's best.
The dismemberment plan played 3 songs with a small group of us on the terrace. Eric finally looked up and
laughed at a gesture I made. He suggested to Jason to open the glass door and let us in out of the cold. I
don't know if i have mentioned the cold, but it was.
We walked, unsure of the future, through the glass door. We were now standing stage left facing the
thicket. Travis told us that we had to keep dancing like we had been on the terrace. We agreed. Just then,
like a gift from heaven, my roommate popped out through the glass doors and the stage left crew. He was
now standing right next to me. I was looking at him, looking at me, looking at him ( Oh God! ).
Here is a quick bit of history . . .
I have known my roommate for a little over 11 years. We were in a band for 7 of those years and have seen
probably about 100 plus shows together. We were always the ones who started dancing during those cheesy
high school dances. We danced a duet of Metallica's Battery at the senior prom. During local band shows,
we were the idiots in the front row jumping around head-banging and playing air drums. One time at the
third Lollapalooza, we, along with another band mate, cleared a 10' by 10' circle in the middle of 30,000
plus people during Dinosaur Jr's "Sludgefeast" because of our ferocious out of control dancing techniques.
Back to The Dismemberment Plan . . .
The Plan starts up the engine and rips into 'Standing Still', good old classic stuff. My roommate and erupted
into our usual gyrating, spastic yet rhythmic motions. Arms flaying, feet sliding and heads bobbing. By the
first chorus, I noticed that the thicket was watching us and laughing. Immediately, we began to dance
harder than we ever have before. I felt like Jennifer Beals in Flashdance only without the legwarmers and
Our dancing intensity seemed to perk the interest in the thicket. It started to sway back and forth like the
wake of a motor boat after someone has climbed aboard. The Dismemberment Plan roared into 'Following
Through.' We were gaining confidence.
The guitar intro of Ice of Boston started and my roommate's eyes grew as big as child at christmas ( or
other such holiday ). He slid across the stage to stage right and began doing the Motown Step in unison
with Eric. I tried to mimic the action on stage left, however, I couldn't quite get the step right.
The Plan pressed on, with me on one side and my roommate on the other imitating the lyrics ( pouring
champaign and talking on the phone . . . blah blah blah you know the song ). During the final chorus, my
roommate started to breakdance. He was unsuccessful from the vantage point of a breakdance enthusiast,
however from my vantage point, he was more successful than the IRS on tax day. From the smiles on thier
faces, it was all too obvious that the thicket really got a kick out of that move. They started swaying
and stomping, swinging and singing. The Terrace Club was simply a hot bed of music, dancing and good
times. I am not sure what else was going on at that same moment across Earth, but I know it didn't
compare to the amount of fun we were having.
A few more songs went by with highlights such as my roommate, making the 'intercourse finger into hole
motion around Jason's head and a keyboard being knocked over by the frenzied thicket. ( actually it was by
the young kid with the tight blue shirt and black rimmed glasses . . . ).
The plan thanked everyone and thanked us, as my roommate and I sweated and panted and panted and
panted and sweated. Let me tell you, Jennifer Beals had it easy. The walked off stage right with the crowd
clapping and stomping for more. Moments later, the fellas emerged from the kitchen door and took their
positions. Travis told a tale about the quality of food products provided by the Terrace Club.
Overjoyed by the prospect of more music, the thicket glowed with happiness, or was it sweat? Well none
the less, they were glowing. The plan ripped through one song and proclaimed that the upcoming song was
going to be their last number. The thicket jeered ( I was torn because part of me was sad because the show
was ending, but the other part, my legs and butt were happy because they could both rest ).
During the final song, my roommate and I put everything we had left in the tank onto the dance floor. Like
Randy Johnson in the World Series, we wanted to leave it all on the field. During the final chorus of the
song, I was seated on the keyboard seat, bent backwards facing my roommate while receiving fake slaps
from my roommate to the pulse of the music.
Just as the music was about Change*, Travis ran over and put his hand between his mouth and mine. We
got it on! With legs a flaying and arms wrapped tightly, the taste of Travis' sweaty hand slid into my mouth.
The good time was over and Travis leaped back to the mic and continued pleasing the thicket. I was left
lying on the floor reliving the great evening . . .
The song ended, the thicket cheered, we, the stage left crew, bowed. After a few small discussions with
various members of the thicket and with the plan, we left the 'Rock Room'. We walked through the wooden
door, which was already opened. And as I walked down the stone stairs, I thought that any night where I
can shake my ass in front a room full of people along with one of the greatest bands around is a great great
night. Plus it was sealed with a kiss. Well, sort of . . .
* a great album from the dismemberment plan. Read about it
Written By: Geoff T.