Thursday, July 27, 2006

Maiden Concert ...

Tonight I took my eldest nephew to his first-ever concert. He's 15. He's been to Broadway shows. He's been to baseball games. But tonight he has his first-ever ticket stub from his first concert.

We caught Daniel Powter at the Park West, a great place to see a show. We had "dinner" at Ben & Jerry's first. I had a suggestion in mind in case he wanted real food, but hey, if you can't have ice cream for dinner with your cool aunt, who can you have ice cream for dinner with?

He was chatty in the car all the way there, and chatty over ice cream, and chatty in line, and chatty once we grabbed our seats until the show started. I was remembering back to when I was 15, and I didn't remember being that chatty. But then I realized, I wasn't that chatty with my parents. With other people, it was probably a different story.

In a moment of sappiness, I looked at him watching the stage and had a vivid flashback to the day he was born. I remember peering at him through the nursery window, tears streaming down my face.

And now he's practically an adult. Tonight as we waited for the show to start, he was sharing his views on religion with me, talking about books and movies and music, and generally keeping me up to date. (Who knew the kids today are listening to Metallica?)

The concert I really wanted to take him to was Coldplay this past spring, but he was on a cruise for spring break, the poor thing. I would have liked to take him to a bigger, louder, more rockin' show, but tonight was still a good time.

Holly Brook opened. She's mostly a keyboardist. She can play a dulcimer. She adjusted her skirt as she held it on her knees, telling the crowd not to take any untoward pictures (well, she didn't use the word "untoward"). Uh, here's a thought, love: If you're modest and you're gonna have to sit on stage with your legs open, wear pants. She played five songs. She almost forgot to introduce the musicians on stage with her. "I feel so stupid when I forget to do that," she said. Yup. She's got your garden-variety pop/folk chick voice. Her songs are rather sullen. After her brief set, when the lights came up, my nephew said, "Well, she's kind of a downer."

Next up, MoZella. Or, as I said at the end of her set, NoMoZella! We'd had quite enough of MoZella. It's not that she's a bad musician (her album is due out in September; she'll be at Schuba's next month; she's kinda got an urban thing goin' on), it's that her stage banter sucks. I'm no prude, but this was an all-ages show and I'm sure I saw six-year-old girls there tonight. So maybe her stage banter shouldn't be about drinking? "What else is there to do in Illinois, Ohio, Michigan, right?" she said. "You guys drinkin' tonight?!" There were some cracks about whether or not we make our own. Yep, Mo, I got me a still right out back and swig outta glass jars. I mean, the girl is from Detroit, it's not like she's unfamiliar with the Midwest. Whatever. I was glad when she got off the stage.

So Daniel's crew readied the stage for his set, and then the band came out and played him on. And he sat down at his beautiful Roland and launched into his first song. Which no one could hear. Because his mic wasn't hot. Oops. It wouldn't be the first gaffe of the night, but given that the target demographic for this concert was a 14-year-old girl, it didn't really matter.

His band keyboardist, Kevin Lovejoy, was the bright spot of the set. The guy is amazing. Daniel called him to the front to play a solo. I'll compare him to Paul Shaffer. And I mean that as a compliment. Musically, I mean. Physically, he looks more like Eraserhead or a scientist geek from an '80s flick that's eluding me at the moment. But he's an outstanding keyboardist. Worth finding in a city near you.

So tonight was the first of what I hope are many concert outings with my nephew. I asked him what band he'd most like to see on tour, regardless of whether they're actually touring. Fall Out Boy. I just checked Ticketbastard. No dates scheduled. But I just signed up for the e-mail alert.


Anonymous Ethan said...

"Ticketbastard." Haaa! Good one, I'm surprised I hadn't heard that one before.

When I worked at Sound Warehouse, I developed a shtick called "Bo-Guss, the Ticket Master." It went like this (with boomy caveman voices):

Customer: Bo-Guss, what seats still available for dinosaur rodeo?

BG: Me have -- mountain seats!

C: Mountain seats? Me not see action from up high! (Leaves)

C2: Bo-Guss, what seats available for pterodactyl air show?

BG: Me have -- cave seats!

C2: Awwww, bogus!!

BG: That my name!

Yeah, it wasn't high art.

8:56 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Uh yeah. I thought you took him to an Iron Maiden concert!

1:19 PM  

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