Independent Student Newspaper Since 1969

The Badger Herald

Independent Student Newspaper Since 1969

The Badger Herald

Independent Student Newspaper Since 1969

The Badger Herald

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Garbage brings it home

Garbage’s show at the first-ever Pondamonium on Aug. 9 was necessarily different from all the others on their world tour. It was almost, to avoid a word that rhymes with “dome-slumming,” a civic endeavor, an enactment of an intense experience of locality. Duh. Because Garbage is the biggest, coolest band to come out of Madison.

Seeing a Garbage show at the Duck Pond is much, much different from seeing a Garbage show at, say, the Orpheum in 2005. It’s smaller-scale, even though it’s on a sports field. If you’re willing to throw the elbows, it’s possible to pretty much be right up into Shirley Manson’s grill and to stay there. The stage is small. There isn’t much to the production design; it’s too light out for most of the set. The audience is decent-sized, but it’s obviously not a heaving, Lolla-sized crowd by any means. Watching Garbage at Pondamonium is-uh oh!-intimate. For a moment, it looked as if the clouds were going to open up a can of whoop-ass all over everything. But, as the Garbage front woman said, folks here are hardy. People had ponchos, and no one was going to punk out as long as the band didn’t. Also, with everyone packed in tightly and dancing, it wa easy to stay warm.

Unsurprisingly, Manson is the first thing that catches the eye. After a few minutes of scrutiny, it becomes evident that her black outfit is actually comprised of a sheer-ish top under which she sports of criss-crossing undergarment, shorts, and tights. Not a dress. Not a playsuit. Gawdalmighty! Simultaneously looking unbelievably chic and rocking seems like an impossible task, yet that is just what she proceeded to do. Duke Erickson and Steve Marker were no sartorial slouches either, shredding in ties. Butch Vig remained hidden behind his drum kit, out of sight of outfit-inspecting eyes. Oh, and bass player Eric Avery was touring with them.

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During their set Garbage didn’t “put us through” their new record before getting to audience faves as most bands would have. Yes, yes, they started with “Automatic Systematic Habit,” but by the fifth song, they were cranking out “Queer.” Which they followed up with “Stupid Girl.” And they weren’t ten songs in before they’d given us “#1 Crush.” Two songs later, “Special” followed. Ok, so, “Only Happy When It Rains” and “Push It” were later in the set, but overall the diehard fans had nothing to complain about. Except maybe the weather.

I will keep going to Garbage shows as long as there are Garbage shows to go to. Though its no longer the band’s 90’s heyday, Shirley Manson actually has a good voice. Yes, she’s Scottish and a force of nature-those factors might be interrelated-but, let’s not forget she’s not just there to look at.

I don’t mind telling you going to a Garbage show is odd for me. It’s like a frickin’ womanhood retrospective or something. You have the obsession of a “#1 Crush.” You get your awesome (yet heartbreak-tinged) kiss-off of a “Special.” Maybe women my age love Shirley Manson so because hers has been the voice of our experience of womanhood. You see, I was a young minx the summer of 1996. Garbage’s “biggest hits” were getting airplay then. (Yep, this was all before Clear Channel.) I distinctly remember walking down the street thinking about “Stupid Girl.” What if someone had told my 19-year-old self that nearly 20 years later I’d be in the town that gave the world Garbage pogo-ing to that song live-and it would still rock as hard?

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