<p><i>...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead,<br>The Blood Brothers</i><br>Thursday, Nov. 30<br>Henry Fonda Theater
<br/>If you?d like to picture the Blood Brothers and ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead show, think of a sedimentary layer containing all sorts of fossilized human bones and odd-sized uranium blow-up dolls. Not eclectic enough? Try a birthday cake with multiple layers of rainbow delight and pouty lips pressed open with razor blades.
<br/>Such is the musical styling of the post-punk, self-immolating scream fest the Blood Brothers bring with them.
<br/>Though this musical style of ADD irreverence seemed on a par with the eclectic audience, it was another vibe, a contradiction in the crowd that stood out as inharmonious from the very beginning, that proved wide-ranging appeal can be just as much an invitation to cavemen drawn to sensations of vibrations and sweat.
<br/>Not that bleached blonde lead singer Jordan Billie didn?t attract the usual crystal meth crowd, obviously the first to flock to his gyrating pelvis and passionately outstretched hand.
<br/>It was the oddity of this background in contrast to the other attendees that seemed not quite right: bearded patrons drawn to the renaissance whimsy of Trail of Dead, exoskeleton-hoodie-wearing husky girls wondering what a real fractured vertebra looks like, along with the 30-something guys who are only kept alive in their lonesomeness by $5 beers and preteens who look almost ready for the MySpace auction block.
<br/>More obvious than these however, were two fine young gentlemen who immediately gained every patron?s attention. For the purpose of this piece, we?ll call them Angry Guy No. 1 and Angry Guy No. 2.
<br/>While Billie and his more quietly accented partner Johnny Whitney traded screams about ?pollinating the flowers of fire? and ?sugar as birth bait,? the Angry Guys were pollinating their own flowers of misguided and wholeheartedly aggressive passion.
<br/>It seems that while Angry Guy No. 1 was romping around the pit like the missing link, probably trying to gain his balance as a Homo sapien, he ?accidentally? grabbed Angry Guy No. 2 in a completely heterosexual embrace of fury and threw him to the floor.
<br/>But in watching these two fine Herculean specimens face off, something along the lines of the miraculous happened; they hugged in a sort of yeah-touch-me-but-don?t-let-anyone-see-us-actually-make-contact kind of way. Very candid indeed.
<br/>Not only did this open display of camaraderie warm the wet and sinewy cockles of the crowd?s collective heart, but it also inspired other kids who have always wondered what it?s like to actually dance to music to start erratically moving.
<br/>A girl drowning in an oversized rave hoodie and unashamed of public enthusiasm tried to move toward the stage, but she was stuck down by an angry guy not quite sympathetic to the notion of actually moving to music.
<br/>It is in this action and reaction that the eclectic attendees get the release they paid for.
<br/>As a show witnessed for sheer morbid curiosity, the hour of voyeurism was well worth the $30 admission price, if only to watch the confusion of angry kids still trying to pollinate their own flowers of fire.</p><br><br><a href='http://www.dailybruin.com/news/articles.asp?id=39224&#039; target='_blank'>http://www.dailybruin.com/news/articles.asp?id=39224&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br>