God of Thunder and Rock & Roll

My step dad and I used to go to NHRA drag races on the weekends at what was once called Seattle International Raceways (today it’s Pacific Raceways). Typically, we’d watch stock cars, funny cars and top fuel. One day we went down to the track and there was a special guest car from Australia: Gravity Storm. Gravity Storm was the first jet engine car I’d ever seen and I was in awe. The car itself is really little more than a jet engine with a seat welded to it, a couple of wheels and a parachute. I had a sneaky feeling that I was going to need my own seatbelt when this thing fired up.

We were sitting in the bleachers on the Winston side of the track next to a young boy and his dad when the driver of Gravity Storm eased the car up to the start line just shy of the Christmas tree. The driver began to fire up the engine: “BOOM...BOOM...BOOM, BOOM, BOOOOOM!” Everything vibrated with the earth shaking noise. The hair on my arms stood on end and pulsated in time to the thunderous beat. The car tore down the quarter mile track at well over 300 mph. It took mere seconds to reach the other end. The little boy next to me was completely amazed. He turned to his father and after struggling to catch his breath exclaimed “Dad! (gasp) Dad! That felt like I was getting a massage!”

I’ve seen Thrones play many times, and every time they make me think of Gravity Storm. Friday night at the Crocodile Café was no exception. Joe Preston’s music roared like a jet engine. I wore earplugs, but that was more of a formality. Earplugs don’t really do much—your ears are going to ring after a Thrones show no matter what. The sound envelopes you. It spills drinks not being held onto and it vibrates cameras so one cannot take a clear picture. Thrones are like a thunder storm created by angry gods and seeing them play live feels a lot like...like getting massaged by the shock waves of a jet engine.