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"This is the kind of show I love!" exclaimed Goldfinger frontman John Feldmann as he surveyed the twisted flesh-colored rebar of flailing limbs and faces that swirled at his feet. "No security, no fucking barricades, just do whatever you like. No bullshit!"
Thirty seconds later a young woman sailed through the air at the beaming, sweat drenched singer, hitting his microphone stand and slamming him in the mouth. He was knocked back a few feet, but was only momentarily stunned. Charging back he began chanting "Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!" at the audience, which obediently complied. It was chaos but it was Feldmann's chaos and he reveled in it.
Goldfinger boasts performing 217 shows in 264 days last year, most of them opening for bigger acts in much larger venues and not all to favorable reviews. But in the close, claustrophobic confines of RKCNDY, they were in their element: a noisy club band playing for an unruly but appreciative mob. Even guitarist Charlie Parker, when he wasn't spinning in a circle like a dog chasing its tail, acknowledged the difference between this and past Seattle experiences.
"The last time we were here we played with a bunch of fat, old queens trying to pass themselves off as the Sex Pistols," he said seriously. "Thank you for forgiving us."
Forgiveness was never an issue. The RKCNDY audience, median age about 16, had come to slam and stage dive and adore the band, all of which they were encouraged to do. Goldfinger's material, almost entirely upbeat, breakneck songs like "Anything," "Mind's Eye" and "My Girlfriend's Shower Sucks" were more easily identifiable in the smaller room and many sang along, some on a mic right next to Feldmann. By the time the final encore came around -- it might have been "King For A Day" but at this point know one knew or cared -- there were at least 50 audience members on stage singing and dancing with the band which was wisely seeking shelter at the back of the postage stamp-sized stage.
Goldfinger wasn't an exercise in art but in energy. Their songs, save the hit "Here In Your Bedroom" and a cover of Joe Jackson's "Is She Really Going Out With Him," were pretty much interchangeable. It didn't matter really what they were playing or trying to say as long as it was fast and loud and that the band was having as good a time as