Sessanta Gave Fans a Sold-Out Circus of the Senses

Alt-metal’s most prolific renaissance man, Maynard James Keenan, brought his 60th birthday celebration, “Sessanta” (the Italian word for 60, referencing his familial heritage), to The Pavilion at Toyota Music Factory on Friday. The touring show, which he describes quite aptly as a circus, showcases his bands A Perfect Circle and Puscifer along with funk-metal icons Primus. All three groups boast devoted and overlapping cult followings who sold out the venue for the uniquely momentous occasion.

Turning 60 is a big milestone, and the spectacle of Sessanta lived up to that. The gear setup alone was a marvel, truly the circus’ three rings. Illuminated top to bottom with reactive vertical LED bars, mimicking an enormous stereo equalizer, the split-level stage housed each band performing both separately and in tandem. It had three drum kits, multiple synths, guitars galore and microphones everywhere. On the left and right staircases scaling up to the drum scaffolding, meandering musicians lingered between tagging in and out of their rotating performances, which grounded the experience in evoking the feel of a birthday party among friends.

There are no openers to warm up the crowd and there is no real headliner of Sessanta. There’s barely even a notion of hierarchical billing on this tour. With the exception of a 10-minute intermission when fans stormed the bar and bathroom lines, the show ran three straight hours with three acts, swirling in and out of 30 songs from each bands’ large catalogs.

Starting with “The Package,” track one of their celebrated concept album about the highs and lows of addiction recovery, Thirteenth Step, A Perfect Circle set a fitting tone for the evening. Crescendos of hectic layered noise followed sonic down-spiraling and subsequent climbing action peppered the show with discernible moments of impact and release.


After wheeling out a hospital cart (a tongue-in-cheek satirization of the feebleness of old age) adorned with birthday balloons to present Keenan a single cupcake with a candle to blow out, Puscifer’s co-vocalist siren Carina Round joined A Perfect Circle on stage for a trembling rendition of “The Contrarian.”

After that gentle easing into the night, Primus took the stage to uproarious applause. Les Claypool, arguably one of the most notable and distinct bass players of all time, is a revelation to watch live even 40 years into his career with the band. His signature unconventional style of string-slapping percussion is perhaps even more astonishing to digest in person than on recording.

Primus’ shining moment of Sessanta came during the second act, with one of the band’s most revered hit singles, “My Name Is Mud.” Claypool’s bass sound seemed to transform from mere rhythm into a relentless sputtering machine gun and pulsate through the crowd from the front rows to the back lawn. The psych-metal classic brought the crowd to their feet in sheer awe of the performance.

With Keenan’s side-project Puscifer, the audience was treated to languid melodies dripping with goth sensibilities and vibrating distortion. Carina Round’s haunting vocals encircle the lush and sludgy instrumentation of Keenan’s eminent soundscapes. She adds an integral force to the side-project he describes as an outlet for his own raw creative stream of consciousness.


Though some may call them pretentious, the high-art interpretation of these bands’ classic metal facets translates well to a largely unpretentious fanbase. The audience spanned multiple generations and a broad range of personalities. Middle-aged men in bluejeans and work boots stood side by side with T-shirt-wearing goths in their 20s. Tie-dye-clad psychedelia heads swayed gently on the lawn and passed joints to metalheads with long, grayed hair falling down their backs.

Though A Perfect Circle, Puscifer and Primus take their music seriously, their endearing charm comes from their lack of self-importance. Playful moments on stage illustrated the joy these established career-musicians still get from playing live and the affinity they have for each other as collaborators. During one of Primus’ stretches of performance, Les Claypool finagled a cowboy hat from an adoring fan in the audience and presented it to Keenan as a birthday gift. Later, he sauntered around the stage in a realistic pig mask.

The Sessanta circus also includes the release of a three-way split EP titled E.P.P.P., with new songs by all three bands co-written by Keenan. The 12-inch vinyl pressing was a highly coveted purchase at the merch table, and the material was performed just before the show’s grand finale.


Keenan notoriously reviles smartphone recording and photographing at concerts. And a campy surrealist video package preceding the show warned that anyone caught with their phone up would be accosted, so their flesh could be ground up and processed into cans of Spam. For the final song of the night, he allowed fans to indulge their urge to capture the show, and an ocean of phone screens illuminated the audience during a collaborative performance of Puscifer’s “Grand Canyon."

Who could blame anyone for wanting to document such a singular performance? Fans are unlikely to ever see anything like Sessanta again and will retell the tale of witnessing this night for years to come. With digital barcodes replacing ticket stubs and outrageous merch booth pricing, what else do we have to commemorate performances we never want to forget?

In the end, Sessanta lived up to the absolute wet dream anticipated by devotees. The music industry would do well to take note of the curated format of Keenan’s circus of the senses. In the age of social media, as music lovers are often justified in foregoing competitive ticket prices to watch an entire concert piece by piece in fan-captured video clips,  Sessanta offers fans a coveted experience beyond the typical live show format. It’s an unforgettable triumph of live music that you just had to see for yourself to believe.