Photo by Theresa Keil
The only way to describe the Baltimore Rock Opera Society’s BRO-Down at the Wind Up Space is in three words: Epicly epic epicness. The BRO-Down had everything a person, who is a fan of everything, could want. The night ripped open with a set by Neutron Bomb and The Young Jaguars. John Caplan from Neutron Bomb poignantly called their style “Bombastic Soul music,” and even if no one has any idea what that means it could not be more true. After two seconds of hearing The Young Jaguars everyone was very aware that they not only blew our minds but kicked ass. With no singer these three guys brought with them an abundance of adrenaline and old school gritty rock. Basically they would have kicked Sex Bom-Omb’s ass in a battle for rock dominance and you can quote me on that.
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Theresa Keil
There was a great mix of people dressed for battle or dressed to venture with Ziggy Stardust to the outer limits. Erica Warford, who was the music director and Ivory Twinkler in the Gilded Lily Burlesque, was the star child captain ready to bring us to the most excellent space oddessy since Ice Pirates.
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Theresa Keil
Sarah Levin and Chris Krysztofiak embodied the spirit of epic space travel. With 70’s style disco lights glowing from their suits they made everywhere they went seem stellar.
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Brooke Hall
The throngs of fans and supporters that filled every nook and cranny of the Wind Up Space speaks to the formidable power the BROS hold over their acolytes.
Photo by Brooke Hall, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Brooke Hall
Lo and behold, you never know when you might run across this week’s prestigious and highly coveted, ‘It’s As If Your Father Was a Human and Your Mother Was a Cow and The Implications Pertaining to Your Conception Are Quite Disturbing So Here Is Something To Make Your Freakish Existence a Bit More Tolerable’ award, winner. I was completely unaware that the minotaur look was back in.
Photo by Brooke Hall, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Brooke Hall
Nine out of ten lumberjacks and the men who wish to kiss them on the cheek agree that the BROS are the future of high culture.
Photo by Brooke Hall, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Theresa Keil
Rock + Opera = Happy. I think we’ve stumbled upon a possible solution to world peace.
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Theresa Keil
As we ventured to the back of the venue we could not help but be overwhelmed by the prodigious epic photo set run by Jen Tydings. Whereupon, a giant thor-like man with epic junk, had his head and the heads of those he had slain cut out allowing up to three people to pose for pictures.
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Theresa Keil
Aran Keating, a member of the BROS, was mentally preparing himself to, in his words, “melt our faces off,” as he got ready to join The Amphion Lunastas Orchestra for their set.
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Theresa Keil
The BROS, performing as The Amphion Lunastas Orchestra started slowly with a light intro, Matt Rocks, or as several people yelled out his incredibly apropos nickname: Matt “Fucking” Rocks, quickly assumed his Bowie-esk vocals and presence and belted out epic rock while shredding guitars erupted from the stage. It only got better as we traveled back to the Byzantine empire in 335 B.C. to hear a song of heroic battle called “Fighting Men.”
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
Photo by Theresa Keil
Feeling as though we needed to be wielding battle axes and clamors, the mood and sounds went from rock music to war cry as everyone started to yell “FIGHTING MEN.” The set was the love child of Queen and David Bowie mixed with mind-blowing, face-melting rock. The night raged on as the Ex-potentials and Hammered preformed their sets. And if there is one thing we all learned from the epically epic epicness of supreme epic proportions, it is that the upcoming rock opera will not only deliver but be the Götterdämmerung of boring rock.
Photo by Theresa Keil, story by Peter Cardamone.
