What's on the docket this weekend?
Why a quick trip across the lake to Toronto with my girlfriend Yams to see Nick Lowe and Wilco. Hey, that rhymes! Oh, oh, oh, oh Nick Lowe.
Showing posts with label concert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label concert. Show all posts
Friday, September 16, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Hey 19
The weekend is over and I'm plumb tuckered out. I spent most of Saturday with my girlfriend Mary first volunteering in the food tent at the 10 Ugly Men festival to raise money for local charities and later hanging in the VIP tent at a Steely Dan concert.
At 10 Ugly Men, we encountered the Pizza Nazi: a woman who, I'm guessing, was the volunteer coordinator and barked at everyone from volunteers to paying customers. Screaming at people who were cutting the line, "You may think you're cute but I'm not serving you without a plate." Really? Do you have to be that nasty?
We had a line a mile long for people waiting for food. We also had a line of volunteers at the end waiting to serve. The bottleneck was the center where the mac and potato salads were being doled out. Those of us at the end, in an attempt to alleviate the wait, were taking orders from people earlier in the line. "You cannot serve people meat this early. They have to pass the salads." Stoopid.
One woman said to us in a feigned whimper, "If she yells at me one more time, I'm leaving. I've been here since 7:30 this morning and I'm a volunteer for chrissake."
Another volunteer taught me how to make sure the condiments and napkin holders were always full as if it were the most challenging and critical job on the planet. Oh, the pressure . . .
So we moved from flipping burgers on a sunny day with temps over 100 degrees to sipping wine and eating prime rib on a very comfortable night under the stars. My favorite part of hobnobbing with the local elite was discovering how everyone shakes hands while reading your name tag. Hello! My eyes are up here! (I'm guessing, since I was a guest of a VIP, they were trying to figure out if I was somebody noteworthy. Nope.)
Steely Dan? Never a big fan and last night was no exception. They were lifeless much akin to the giant mechanical rat that plays on the stage at Chuck E. Cheese. Before the show, Mary warned me, "I'm only staying for four songs." Okay by me. The first song was so boring, I said to no one in particular, "Oh this is my favorite" to which the dude next to me started laughing.
At the end of the fourth song, I texted Mary in the seat next to me just to give myself something to do. "Let me know when you want to leave." She responded, "Now!" so we bolted. We felt like ingrates but we did have fun before the band started. Does that count?
Friendship: Having heaps o' fun with someone regardless of one's circumstances. Sweating to death, yet laughing, while serving drunken masses? Check. Dancing in our seats while listening to crappy jazzy jazz hits? Check.
Make tonight a wonderful thing.
At 10 Ugly Men, we encountered the Pizza Nazi: a woman who, I'm guessing, was the volunteer coordinator and barked at everyone from volunteers to paying customers. Screaming at people who were cutting the line, "You may think you're cute but I'm not serving you without a plate." Really? Do you have to be that nasty?
We had a line a mile long for people waiting for food. We also had a line of volunteers at the end waiting to serve. The bottleneck was the center where the mac and potato salads were being doled out. Those of us at the end, in an attempt to alleviate the wait, were taking orders from people earlier in the line. "You cannot serve people meat this early. They have to pass the salads." Stoopid.
One woman said to us in a feigned whimper, "If she yells at me one more time, I'm leaving. I've been here since 7:30 this morning and I'm a volunteer for chrissake."
Another volunteer taught me how to make sure the condiments and napkin holders were always full as if it were the most challenging and critical job on the planet. Oh, the pressure . . .
So we moved from flipping burgers on a sunny day with temps over 100 degrees to sipping wine and eating prime rib on a very comfortable night under the stars. My favorite part of hobnobbing with the local elite was discovering how everyone shakes hands while reading your name tag. Hello! My eyes are up here! (I'm guessing, since I was a guest of a VIP, they were trying to figure out if I was somebody noteworthy. Nope.)
Steely Dan? Never a big fan and last night was no exception. They were lifeless much akin to the giant mechanical rat that plays on the stage at Chuck E. Cheese. Before the show, Mary warned me, "I'm only staying for four songs." Okay by me. The first song was so boring, I said to no one in particular, "Oh this is my favorite" to which the dude next to me started laughing.
At the end of the fourth song, I texted Mary in the seat next to me just to give myself something to do. "Let me know when you want to leave." She responded, "Now!" so we bolted. We felt like ingrates but we did have fun before the band started. Does that count?
Friendship: Having heaps o' fun with someone regardless of one's circumstances. Sweating to death, yet laughing, while serving drunken masses? Check. Dancing in our seats while listening to crappy jazzy jazz hits? Check.
Make tonight a wonderful thing.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
The Story
I would so love to go to CMAC tonight to see the Brandi Carlile, Secret Sisters, Ray LaMontagne show. Yet I would feel more strongly about it if it were warmer out and not raining. Instead, I'll hunker down with the kids and watch my favorite Brandi song on YouTube. Love, love, love her.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
C Jam Blues
We went to the fifth grade band concert last night to hear Son #1 playing his saxophone in the midst of a sea of instruments. Beautiful sound. Impressive talent for a group of 10-11 year olds who just began playing together this year. Because I'm a ball of emotions and a music lover, I got all teary eyed. The rest of the audience? Not so much.
The kids played everything from a patriotic medley including America the Beautiful to the Star Wars theme. My favorite was the Duke Ellington improv to C Jam Blues. It made me appreciate even more the wonderful education my kids are receiving in the Pittsford School District. We didn't have exposure to such fabulous music at Catholic school when I was a kid unless you count my parents forcing us to watch the Lawrence Welk show every week -- gosh, thanks mom :)
As I watched their teacher, Eva Regan, skillfully conduct all of the moving parts, I wondered if it's intimidating to teach some of these kids whose parents are on the faculty of the Eastman School of Music. (How am I doing folks?) Two of our neighbors alone include a celebrated jazz studies and improvisation professor and an international conductor whose kid is in a band with Son #2. Wanna hear them (meaning the kids)? Stop by our basement any weekend.
What fun.
The kids played everything from a patriotic medley including America the Beautiful to the Star Wars theme. My favorite was the Duke Ellington improv to C Jam Blues. It made me appreciate even more the wonderful education my kids are receiving in the Pittsford School District. We didn't have exposure to such fabulous music at Catholic school when I was a kid unless you count my parents forcing us to watch the Lawrence Welk show every week -- gosh, thanks mom :)
As I watched their teacher, Eva Regan, skillfully conduct all of the moving parts, I wondered if it's intimidating to teach some of these kids whose parents are on the faculty of the Eastman School of Music. (How am I doing folks?) Two of our neighbors alone include a celebrated jazz studies and improvisation professor and an international conductor whose kid is in a band with Son #2. Wanna hear them (meaning the kids)? Stop by our basement any weekend.
What fun.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Rated M for Mature
I originally intended to pepper this f*ing post with f-bombs as a tribute to last night's f*ing awesome Green Day show but I can barely f*ing stomach it thus far. So . . . f* that.
For the longest time, I thought I was the sole American idiot who would take an eight year old boy to Green Day. Little did I know, there are thousands of like families in this region alone. Preppy moms with kids in tow. Rocker parents with a litter of young rockers. Dads holding babies. I was not alone. The littlegirl boy in the row in front of us, possibly six years old, had hair down to his waist and spent the entire show playing air guitar and making amazing jumps like a tiny Angus Young. (Funny for the first five minutes. Not quite so endearing thereafter.)
Family friendly indeed. It was like spending the night at Disney World but Mickey and Minnie had been replaced with Ren & Stimpy. Come on kids, let's get drunk and have some fun. F* your parents. F* your teachers. (I kept putting my hands over Son #2's ears. Please, for the love of God, don't f* your parents or teachers.)
Not that any of this was surprising. When you've become famous for your angst-riddled, new generation, anti-war, Sex Pistols-like persona, then you didn't sign up to be a Boy Scout role model. I get it. But f* you anyhow, there are children here.
In addition to the families and expected teens, there was a large number of older couples surrounding us. And by "older," I mean in their late sixties/early seventies. The couple in front of us pounded beer after beer and danced the night away like old folks at a wedding. I was hoping there was a defibrillator nearby just in case the ol' ticker gave way. The tea-totaling, straight-faced, American Gothic couple next to us looked like they put their bong down at Woodstock and became organic farmers in the decades since. The most unlikely Green Day fans ever.
Regardless of where you were in the Green Day fan base bimodal distribution, the f* bombs were a bit much. Asking a 12 year old boy if he'd f*ed a woman yet? The poor kid was probably with his mom. Um, awkward. Introducing Mike Dirnt, the bass player, by telling us he has a huge cock? Come on. He probably already gets laid enough. Unnecessary. The dude next to me kept rolling his eyes. I hear ya Gramps. But in all fairness, this is Green Day (not Doris).
With all that behind me, I have to say, Green Day was a fan-f*ing-tastic live show. Just a great, great time like the rock and roll concerts from my childhood where the music, not the theatrics, was front-and-center. Unlike The Pixies and Weezer, these guys played their hearts out -- for three full hours -- throughout which lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong made comments like "We appreciate that you spent your hard-earned money to come to see us and we're going to give you the show of a lifetime" and "It's an honor to play for you tonight." And I honestly think he meant it. Bless his fuzzy, warm heart.
When it comes to audience engagement, they have all other bands beat. They brought everyone from the pit onto the stage to dance, the previously mentioned boy on stage to sing, and later three audience members (i.e., drummer, bass player and chick guitarist) to play a song. It must have been the dream of a lifetime for these kids -- especially when they told the girl keep her guitar. The crowd went insane.
Actually, the crowd went wild all night long. Like Pavlov's dogs, we collectively waved our arms in the air every time Billie Joe shouted, "get your arms up there." Yeah, how anti-establishment are we now? Punk anarchists who follow the rules. Go figure. He also threw out a gazillion crowd-thrilling references to Buffalo apparently not knowing that he was playing in a giant field between our two fair cities. (Somewhat presciently, he knows that the Bill's are going to win the Superbowl this year. Get your wagers ready.) He even gave a shout out to the Canadians in the crowd. Judging by the cheers, and license plates in the parking lot, this comprised maybe a quarter of the audience. But he only gave a few, lame shout outs to us in short, namby pamby "Buffalo and surrounding areas" references. Yea! That's me! Surrounding area! (I've decided that we need a strong Buffalo, Rochester, Canada coin phrase. I just can't determine what it should be. BuffaCanaRoch? Delightful.)
In a bizarre twist, when introducing musician Jason Freese, the crowd cheered like crazy. When Billie Joe followed up to say he used to play with the Goo Goo Dolls, there was an odd silence. Here in the epicenter of the Goo Goo Doll Nation, clearly no one gave a s*^t. This begs the question, are the audiences for both bands that divergent? My answer: who cares. (Or, more appropriately, who gives a f*ing s*&^?)
They played a million of their hits; so many that I cannot even begin to list them here. Songs from their new album interspersed with old school hits from the early '90s. Oh and what else you might ask? Introductory chords from songs like Iron Man, Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love, Sweet Child of Mine and Highway to Hell. Great fun. Huge crowd pleasers. We even sang the chorus to Hey Jude. Wasn't expecting that . . .
To add icing on the cake, when the lad and I were leaving the venue, a guy from the Green Day crew stopped us and handed Son #2 Tré Cool's drumstick. OMG, you should have seen his face. It was the perfect ending to an (almost) perfect show.
So thanks to my little man for taking me to Green Day. I would never, ever, ever have chosen to go to see this band on my own but I'm extremely grateful for the experience. They are true rock n' roll musicians and amazing, crowd-pleasing performers.
For the longest time, I thought I was the sole American idiot who would take an eight year old boy to Green Day. Little did I know, there are thousands of like families in this region alone. Preppy moms with kids in tow. Rocker parents with a litter of young rockers. Dads holding babies. I was not alone. The little
Family friendly indeed. It was like spending the night at Disney World but Mickey and Minnie had been replaced with Ren & Stimpy. Come on kids, let's get drunk and have some fun. F* your parents. F* your teachers. (I kept putting my hands over Son #2's ears. Please, for the love of God, don't f* your parents or teachers.)
Not that any of this was surprising. When you've become famous for your angst-riddled, new generation, anti-war, Sex Pistols-like persona, then you didn't sign up to be a Boy Scout role model. I get it. But f* you anyhow, there are children here.
In addition to the families and expected teens, there was a large number of older couples surrounding us. And by "older," I mean in their late sixties/early seventies. The couple in front of us pounded beer after beer and danced the night away like old folks at a wedding. I was hoping there was a defibrillator nearby just in case the ol' ticker gave way. The tea-totaling, straight-faced, American Gothic couple next to us looked like they put their bong down at Woodstock and became organic farmers in the decades since. The most unlikely Green Day fans ever.
Regardless of where you were in the Green Day fan base bimodal distribution, the f* bombs were a bit much. Asking a 12 year old boy if he'd f*ed a woman yet? The poor kid was probably with his mom. Um, awkward. Introducing Mike Dirnt, the bass player, by telling us he has a huge cock? Come on. He probably already gets laid enough. Unnecessary. The dude next to me kept rolling his eyes. I hear ya Gramps. But in all fairness, this is Green Day (not Doris).
With all that behind me, I have to say, Green Day was a fan-f*ing-tastic live show. Just a great, great time like the rock and roll concerts from my childhood where the music, not the theatrics, was front-and-center. Unlike The Pixies and Weezer, these guys played their hearts out -- for three full hours -- throughout which lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong made comments like "We appreciate that you spent your hard-earned money to come to see us and we're going to give you the show of a lifetime" and "It's an honor to play for you tonight." And I honestly think he meant it. Bless his fuzzy, warm heart.
When it comes to audience engagement, they have all other bands beat. They brought everyone from the pit onto the stage to dance, the previously mentioned boy on stage to sing, and later three audience members (i.e., drummer, bass player and chick guitarist) to play a song. It must have been the dream of a lifetime for these kids -- especially when they told the girl keep her guitar. The crowd went insane.
Actually, the crowd went wild all night long. Like Pavlov's dogs, we collectively waved our arms in the air every time Billie Joe shouted, "get your arms up there." Yeah, how anti-establishment are we now? Punk anarchists who follow the rules. Go figure. He also threw out a gazillion crowd-thrilling references to Buffalo apparently not knowing that he was playing in a giant field between our two fair cities. (Somewhat presciently, he knows that the Bill's are going to win the Superbowl this year. Get your wagers ready.) He even gave a shout out to the Canadians in the crowd. Judging by the cheers, and license plates in the parking lot, this comprised maybe a quarter of the audience. But he only gave a few, lame shout outs to us in short, namby pamby "Buffalo and surrounding areas" references. Yea! That's me! Surrounding area! (I've decided that we need a strong Buffalo, Rochester, Canada coin phrase. I just can't determine what it should be. BuffaCanaRoch? Delightful.)
In a bizarre twist, when introducing musician Jason Freese, the crowd cheered like crazy. When Billie Joe followed up to say he used to play with the Goo Goo Dolls, there was an odd silence. Here in the epicenter of the Goo Goo Doll Nation, clearly no one gave a s*^t. This begs the question, are the audiences for both bands that divergent? My answer: who cares. (Or, more appropriately, who gives a f*ing s*&^?)
They played a million of their hits; so many that I cannot even begin to list them here. Songs from their new album interspersed with old school hits from the early '90s. Oh and what else you might ask? Introductory chords from songs like Iron Man, Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love, Sweet Child of Mine and Highway to Hell. Great fun. Huge crowd pleasers. We even sang the chorus to Hey Jude. Wasn't expecting that . . .
To add icing on the cake, when the lad and I were leaving the venue, a guy from the Green Day crew stopped us and handed Son #2 Tré Cool's drumstick. OMG, you should have seen his face. It was the perfect ending to an (almost) perfect show.
So thanks to my little man for taking me to Green Day. I would never, ever, ever have chosen to go to see this band on my own but I'm extremely grateful for the experience. They are true rock n' roll musicians and amazing, crowd-pleasing performers.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Perfect Situation
Hey Weezer, if you're wondering if I want you to, I want you to!
And by that, I mean "play longer."
Sure I had a 7:30 a.m. meeting the day after your show but that didn't mean that I needed to be home, in bed, before 11:00 p.m. Especially when your show didn't kick-off until 9:15 p.m. Egads.
Regardless, I am grateful that my friend Paul and I made the trek out to CMAC in Canandaigua last Sunday night because the Weezer concert was outstanding. Those little nerds can rock. The Weezer Snuggie wearing crowd loved 'em. We loved 'em. Every song is a hit. Photograph. Island in the Sun. Buddy Holly. Perfect Situation. Beverly Hills. The Sweater Song. And on and on. Such amazing talent including frontman Rivers Cuomo's ability to jump repeatedly from a trampoline to the drummer's platform like a little wood nymph.
What I learned:
In closing, I don't intend to quit my job and follow them anytime soon. It would conflict with my Wilco and Cracker tour plans. But I'm really glad I went.
And by that, I mean "play longer."
Sure I had a 7:30 a.m. meeting the day after your show but that didn't mean that I needed to be home, in bed, before 11:00 p.m. Especially when your show didn't kick-off until 9:15 p.m. Egads.
Regardless, I am grateful that my friend Paul and I made the trek out to CMAC in Canandaigua last Sunday night because the Weezer concert was outstanding. Those little nerds can rock. The Weezer Snuggie wearing crowd loved 'em. We loved 'em. Every song is a hit. Photograph. Island in the Sun. Buddy Holly. Perfect Situation. Beverly Hills. The Sweater Song. And on and on. Such amazing talent including frontman Rivers Cuomo's ability to jump repeatedly from a trampoline to the drummer's platform like a little wood nymph.
What I learned:
- If you touch your thumbs together to make a W with your two palms outstretched and then lower your pinkie and ring fingers, you can rock out Weezer-style. Peace out wingman.
- Weezer fans are in a class of their own. I guess that's where the term "fanatic" comes in. The girlfriends of the dudes in front of us were rendered superfluous. Pushed aside mid-concert as these guys put their arms around each others' waists and swayed. They fist and chest bumped between each and every song. And they sang every single lyric with finger pointing emphasis. (Apparently it's not impolite to point menacingly and scream at rock stars.) They were more excited than little girls at a Jonas Brothers concert. I felt bad that Paul was stuck with me when he could have experienced extreme male bonding with another species of male that even Jane Goodall would enjoy studying. (Next time they're sighted, I plan to put a tag on their ears. Here we go.)
In closing, I don't intend to quit my job and follow them anytime soon. It would conflict with my Wilco and Cracker tour plans. But I'm really glad I went.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Do You Realize?
The big question that's haunting me lately: Is there a God? No, wait. I have that one covered (to the best of my knowledge).
Just thinking/writing aloud, should I fork over the money to go see the Flaming Lips at the CMAC Performing Arts Center this summer? Especially knowing that no one will go with me?
I loved Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots soooo much. I played it incessantly. I even named the dwarf Japanese maple in our front yard Yoshimi when I bought him. Since then? Not so much. Austin City Limits? Boring. Wayne, the lead singer? A bit over the top. Crowd surfing boy in the plastic bubble. Bunny suits. Freak parade. Possibly a blast live? Or am I too old for such antics?
Wilco and Cracker aside, I'm not that into live shows lately. Yet, if Beck, Weezer or Liz Phair would come to town, I'd jump at the chance to see them. Or Sparks. Or Cat Stevens (aka Yusuf Islam). Maybe because I love heaps of their songs. But the Flaming Lips?
Help!
And then there's this that sounds like Cat Stevens to me!
Just thinking/writing aloud, should I fork over the money to go see the Flaming Lips at the CMAC Performing Arts Center this summer? Especially knowing that no one will go with me?
I loved Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots soooo much. I played it incessantly. I even named the dwarf Japanese maple in our front yard Yoshimi when I bought him. Since then? Not so much. Austin City Limits? Boring. Wayne, the lead singer? A bit over the top. Crowd surfing boy in the plastic bubble. Bunny suits. Freak parade. Possibly a blast live? Or am I too old for such antics?
Wilco and Cracker aside, I'm not that into live shows lately. Yet, if Beck, Weezer or Liz Phair would come to town, I'd jump at the chance to see them. Or Sparks. Or Cat Stevens (aka Yusuf Islam). Maybe because I love heaps of their songs. But the Flaming Lips?
Help!
And then there's this that sounds like Cat Stevens to me!
Friday, April 16, 2010
American Idiot
What idiotic mom takes her eight year old son to a Green Day concert? (You really don't have to answer that.) But thanks to the Citi card pre-sale option, he and I are now proud owners of two seats under the shell at the Darien Lake Performing Arts Center. For Son #2, August couldn't come any sooner.
Our little guy may be one of the world's biggest Green Day fans. He has been into the band for years as initially evidenced by this post from 2007. At one point, the hubby recorded Green Day Live at Irving Plaza for him but subsequently had to delete it after the kid, probably four or five years old at the time, watched it at least 1-2 times per day and drove us absolutely bonkers.* After that, we would find him sitting quietly in the basement listening to the band on his computer -- ear to the speakers.
*Note: That nightly void has now been filled with three seasons of Criss Angel DVDs thanks to Aunt Sue & Uncle Kevin.
Every time we get in the car, to this day, he asks if I can play a Green Day CD. Just the other night, he asked me to come downstairs while he sampled Green Day tunes for me. He's discovered their version of I Fought the Law and has been listening it along with other versions including The Clash and the Dead Kennedys (who sing "and I won" as he pointed out to me). I contend The Clash version is the best; he clearly disagrees.
In a semi-related note: Joe Strummer was a hottie. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. London Calling? A gift from Kevin when I was in HS. The man knows his audience . . .
Our little guy may be one of the world's biggest Green Day fans. He has been into the band for years as initially evidenced by this post from 2007. At one point, the hubby recorded Green Day Live at Irving Plaza for him but subsequently had to delete it after the kid, probably four or five years old at the time, watched it at least 1-2 times per day and drove us absolutely bonkers.* After that, we would find him sitting quietly in the basement listening to the band on his computer -- ear to the speakers.
*Note: That nightly void has now been filled with three seasons of Criss Angel DVDs thanks to Aunt Sue & Uncle Kevin.
Every time we get in the car, to this day, he asks if I can play a Green Day CD. Just the other night, he asked me to come downstairs while he sampled Green Day tunes for me. He's discovered their version of I Fought the Law and has been listening it along with other versions including The Clash and the Dead Kennedys (who sing "and I won" as he pointed out to me). I contend The Clash version is the best; he clearly disagrees.
In a semi-related note: Joe Strummer was a hottie. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. London Calling? A gift from Kevin when I was in HS. The man knows his audience . . .
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Here Comes Your Band
The Pixies, one of my favorite bands of all time, embarked recently on a world tour to play their "best of" album, Doolittle, in its entirety. I love this because Doolittle isn't an after-the-fact compilation of greatest hits but, in my humble and unschooled opinion, simply one of the best CDs ever released. So I've booked my flights to NYC for November; now I have to pray that I get a ticket to their Monday night show the minute they go on sale this Friday. Anyone wanna join me?
In a similar vein, I just read that Sparks played a show in LA last February containing all of the tracks from their latest album (currently residing in the "where is it now?" file) along with every track from their 1974 work of art: Kimono My House. Seriously. If that ever happens again, or if they play Propaganda from cover to cover, I think my sister and I need to board a plane immediately.
Since I can't find a good video of my favorite Sparks' song, "Moon Over Kentucky" (with the exception of Morrissey covering a less sinister/less interesting version last month in Brixton Academy), I'll post their seminal hit "This Town Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us." Oh heck, I'll post 'em both. Living large. Now to get them to play somewhere . . . anywhere.
In a similar vein, I just read that Sparks played a show in LA last February containing all of the tracks from their latest album (currently residing in the "where is it now?" file) along with every track from their 1974 work of art: Kimono My House. Seriously. If that ever happens again, or if they play Propaganda from cover to cover, I think my sister and I need to board a plane immediately.
Since I can't find a good video of my favorite Sparks' song, "Moon Over Kentucky" (with the exception of Morrissey covering a less sinister/less interesting version last month in Brixton Academy), I'll post their seminal hit "This Town Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us." Oh heck, I'll post 'em both. Living large. Now to get them to play somewhere . . . anywhere.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Wilco Will Love You Baby
Would it be weird to plan future family vacations around Wilco tour dates?
Three little words. Four syllables. Best show ever.
Such a gorgeous night for an outdoor concert at Artpark in Lewiston. Powerful sound. Soulful lyrics. Groovy beats with discordant sound. Poetic. Energetic. From entering the stage to the Price is Right theme song to shouting out to the lawn, "We mean your people no harm," Jeff Tweedy is hilarious. The music and Wilco performance was nothing short of phenomenal.
As an added bonus, Conor Oberst opened the show. Had I checked the tickets before entering the gate, I would have known prior. Instead I was really, really happy as Bright Eyes played the Main Street Armory a while back and I've kicked myself for ages for not going. (It was heavily promoted on WBER so I figured I would be at the tip of the tail on the Guassian age distribution for that event. Thanks but no thanks.) Anyhoo, the Mystic Valley Band was fabulous, too. And I loved that they performed in captain hats. I'm guessing they rode the Maid of the Mist before the show!?
After last night's show, I can understand why people packed up their lives and followed the Grateful Dead. I think I could take Wilco in doses large enough to kill.
Three little words. Four syllables. Best show ever.
Such a gorgeous night for an outdoor concert at Artpark in Lewiston. Powerful sound. Soulful lyrics. Groovy beats with discordant sound. Poetic. Energetic. From entering the stage to the Price is Right theme song to shouting out to the lawn, "We mean your people no harm," Jeff Tweedy is hilarious. The music and Wilco performance was nothing short of phenomenal.
As an added bonus, Conor Oberst opened the show. Had I checked the tickets before entering the gate, I would have known prior. Instead I was really, really happy as Bright Eyes played the Main Street Armory a while back and I've kicked myself for ages for not going. (It was heavily promoted on WBER so I figured I would be at the tip of the tail on the Guassian age distribution for that event. Thanks but no thanks.) Anyhoo, the Mystic Valley Band was fabulous, too. And I loved that they performed in captain hats. I'm guessing they rode the Maid of the Mist before the show!?
After last night's show, I can understand why people packed up their lives and followed the Grateful Dead. I think I could take Wilco in doses large enough to kill.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Cracker Soul
Every once in a while you score one of the best nights ever. Last night: Cracker. They played heaps o' hits including Eurotrash Girl, Low, Movie Star, Sweet Thistle Pie, Get Off This, Teen Angst, etc., and a fabulous new tune, "Turn on Tune in Drop out with Me," from their latest CD. If I had the chance, I would have run away with David Lowery right there and then. Shockingly enough, he didn't ask me to.
I, of course, picked up my girlfriend Ellen straight from work so I was wearing a black suit and heels. (Way to rock out.) Yet, at the end of the night, this guy that Priddy Mary thought was hot but looked more like a cuter version of Joey from Z Rock came up to me and said, "I'm not hitting on you but wanted you to know that you're the cutest thing -- dancing in the rain."
Seriously. For someone suffering from chronic low self-esteem, it was such an amazing compliment. Who ever you are and where ever you may be: thanks.
I, of course, picked up my girlfriend Ellen straight from work so I was wearing a black suit and heels. (Way to rock out.) Yet, at the end of the night, this guy that Priddy Mary thought was hot but looked more like a cuter version of Joey from Z Rock came up to me and said, "I'm not hitting on you but wanted you to know that you're the cutest thing -- dancing in the rain."
Seriously. For someone suffering from chronic low self-esteem, it was such an amazing compliment. Who ever you are and where ever you may be: thanks.
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