Shrouded in mystery, The Residents may have come to SF in 1972 from Shreveport Louisiana. The story goes that they met in high school and headed west in 1966. The truck broke down in San Mateo where they stayed for a few years making their first recordings in 1969. The first appearance with the name The Residents was indeed at SF’s Boarding House in 1971. Fast forward through 1976’s Third Reich ‘n’ Roll, giant eyeball heads and 1979’s eerie Eskimo. I was 10 at that time and my brother challenged me to listen to that frozen tundra of a disc all the way though . . . if I was cool enough. It was the only time I ever listened to it. One thing is sure: The Residents will always be light years ahead of everything.

80+ records and 20+ movies later, cut to Bimbos with the Love Boat bartenders and sexy mermaid paintings. There couldn’t be a finer stage for them. It’s a full house all seated around small tables on night 2 of an impressive 2-night gig. It is the last show of The Talking Light Tour and The Residents are a 3 piece. They were a 4 piece for 40 years, but apparently “Carlos has had enough of the Rock and Roll life, and he is back in Mexico caring for his mom. Fuck Carlos!”, screams Randy the singer/storyteller.

Randy has got to be in his 60s but he looked extra old and scary in his mask, boxers, tie and robe. Standing in his living room in front of the doily strewn couch and cabinet topped with a black and white fuzz tv, furry lamp and gingerbread man, he brings to mind the neighbors you never wanted to get to know. Later he puts on a furry white jacket with x-mas lights peeking though. The shimmery lining is all black skulls.

On a small table to the left, keyboard jolts emanate from Chuck who sports bulging black safety goggles and dread locks made of springs. To the right, wild pych-fuzz guitars explode from Bob who is wearing matching garb. Behind them giant orbs melt from planets to suns and then suddenly become the projection screens for Randy’s video wand. The films depict a terrifying mom type recapping her tragic youth when both her parents died horrible deaths. And she lost a gold fish . . .

And what of the Mirror People!? Of course none of that matters now. As luck would have it The Residents were filming this last show of the tour in 3D. 3D glasses were provided, but I don’t think people really got it. As it turns out, Randy autographed every pair of those glasses, and as we filed out, I grabbed as many as I could. I have them on Ebay now and by the time you read this I will be fat, rich and lazing on the beach in Nicaragua.