For many Chicagoans (and others who called themselves as such for a few days), November eighth through the thirteenth was something special. For six days in a row, Flower Booking gave eager fans charging to the Metro over 20 amazing bands that had little in common other than a chance to share their art with an enthusiastic and captive audience.
The bands ranged from popular radio favorites (Jimmy Eat World) to hometown heroes (Local H). There were several bands on their way up (Cougars, These Arms are Snakes) and others dusting off their instruments for all their loyal fans (Sweep the Leg Johnny). However, no two bands created wider smiles than The Promise Ring and Smoking Popes who decided to give one more go at it for all of those that thought reunion shows were more of a false hope than a realistic expectation. For six days, every band was humbled and vocally honored to be a part of Flower 15, Flower Booking’s fifteen year anniversary celebration.
Well—everyone except Make Believe.
Okay, okay. It would be wrong of me to group the entire band as party spoilers, so I will be more specific: ¼ of Make Believe, or Tim Kinsellas.
I was lucky enough to catch Mr. Kinsellas towards the latter half of his band’s set. His third to last song had received little applause along with the not-so-rare unoriginal sophomoric heckler who was under the wrong impression that his fellow audience members even find him the least bit entertaining.
Then, the fun started.
“We have 15 minutes to play two songs which will only take six minutes, so I have nine minutes to talk.” Tim sounded a little incoherent with an inconsistent sense of balance to boot, but none of the 1200 in attendance was ready for the ensuing minutes.
“Does anyone know what Jesus is?”
The hecklers divided like cells, mixing boo’s with taunts.
“Jesus isn’t a noun. Jesus is an idea… I feel like I am facing a mob.”
In the midst of his continuous rant on trying to get the crowd to yell for Jesus or Barabbas while making very little sense in between, it was clear that he was losing a grip on things. Although I’m forced to speculate, Tim Kinsellas embodied that of a poster child for why one should not take mind-altering drugs.
The other members of Make Believe started playing their next song, trying to salvage the show and their band’s reputation. However, their faithful front man kept yelling at them to stop so he could continue his rant. At that point I thought someone would step in, whether it is a friend of the band’s or someone from Flower Booking or even the Metro staff. Then, a man walked on stage. Finally, I thought to myself, we can move on from this.
Instead, it was someone with a digital camera in hand, abusing his all access pass and capturing the disaster as it happened. Kinsellas turned around and got close to him, but the mysterious photographer didn’t move like a young boy poking an animal in a cage.
The final song couldn’t have lasted any longer. In 3 minutes, Kinsellas was able to flick off his own drummer who wouldn’t stop playing, throw a sign at the crowd, and display various other hand gestures reserved for 15 year old boys and Andrew Dice Clay.
When the circus concluded, the crowd cheered louder than I think Make Believe has ever received, despite the fact that it was ill-intended. Finally, when The Promise Ring entered, the crowd was focused on the headliners. Heads bounced and swayed like they had been waiting to do since the band parted ways.
At that time, I began to feel sorry for Mr. Kinsellas. I began to think that maybe in real life he was a decent guy who went overboard with his chemical cocktail.
He then came out for a curtain call.
Midway through The Promise Ring’s set, he appeared on stage and hesitantly walked up to a vacant microphone looking for even more attention. The Promise Ring stayed extremely classy, laughing it off and refusing to react to a man with a broken ego. Still, that is when I lost all sympathy for him. It became crystal clear that he had no shame; no ounce of decency or respect for all those who came to pay homage for a great band.
So, Mr. Kinsellas, thanks for attempting to ruin an otherwise magical week in the name of your narcissistic tendencies.
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