Saturday time-waster: favorite live concerts (in the order I think of them):
1. Paul McCartney, Atlanta, 2002. This was my dad's anniversary present to my mom. He told me he was going to get tickets and asked if I wanted in. I did, but I didn't want it to be too Brady Bunch-ish. Fortunately I said yes, get me a ticket, because it was the single best concert I've ever been to (and probably will go to). Paul McCartney has every reason to act arrogant, and yet all throughout the concert he seemed genuinely appreciative of (and surprised by) the audience's response. Sometimes you go to concerts and it's like a huge effort for the group - the band isn't into it, and they almost make you feel silly for being excited. Really, the Beatles' front man had every right to be that way. But no. Every time he finished a song and the place went wild, he'd look up with this surprised smile on his face, like he was thinking "oh, you liked that?" He played for three solid hours - no warm up act, no break - and gave three encores. Finally he came out and said, "You have to go home!" Everyone screamed "no!" and he laughed and replied, "Well, I'VE got to go home!" All these years and he is still a fantastic musician and performer, but like I said, his attitude really made it even better.
2. the everybodyfields, Bristol, 2008 (or possibly 2007...not really sure on this one). the everybodyfields is a now broken up Americana band from Johnson City (they say Knoxville, but don't listen). They got a name for themselves, even getting picked up by Ramseur Records out of NC. Every time I saw them prior to (and after) this concert, it was outside. That's what I was used to - standing in the sun (or freezing at night), sweating, and probably smelling like beer because someone accidentally spilled it on you. That's appropriate for some concerts - the Americana "newgrass" movement can get pretty raucous, and it's fun to be standing up and screaming like it's punk rock. Anyway, I never realized that that was not the best way to see the everybodyfields until I heard them..in a library. My JC friends and I all loaded up one day to see them, and I'm thinking we'll be outside, we'll be standing up...and then we go into a regular-sized room and sit in seats. Already I am confused...we're going to sit down through the concert? The only time I ever saw that was on VH1's Unplugged. But man, was it incredible. One of my favorite songs of theirs is "Lonely Anywhere," which was somewhat fitting for where I was at the time (just out of grad school, no idea what to do with my life). Again, I was used to hearing it outside, but in this intimate, enclosed setting...it was incredible. In the middle of the song is a brief pause, and I can still hear it in my head - the way the silence echoed around the room. In that split second, you could hear a pin drop. The performance nearly moved me to tears, not because of the lyrics, but because of how Sam and Jill sang them. It was beautiful, and I'm never going to question a concert in a library again.
3. Dave Matthews Band, Knoxville, 2001. I think I've seen DMB a handful of times by now, and I've since stopped following them. I still like the same songs I loved in high school, but honestly, they are a link to the past and not really part of my present. Anyway, during my junior/senior year, my best friends and I went through a big DMB phase. I don't know who or what started it, but we loved DMB. And just before graduation, the group came to Knoxville. We scored tickets, and even though they weren't together, we all shared that experience. It was maybe the last big thing we did together as a group before going our separate ways. I remember us being close to UT's campus, and talking with my friends who would make that their home. We had fun, we always did, but it was sort of bittersweet - I knew in a few months we'd scatter. I still remember feeling that way when I think back to that concert, but now it's followed by the comfort time brings, and the knowledge that just like good music stays good no matter your address is, your friends will always be your friends.
4. The Avett Brothers, Knoxville, 2007. My problem with seeing the Avett Brothers now is that they are too big. I don't want to sound like one of those music snobs - someone who only likes bands no one else has ever heard of and drops them the moment one of their songs is played against a car commercial. What doesn't appeal to me is the crowd that comes along, because I am not a fan of crowds (and unfortunately, the AB concerts get more and more like frat parties). I was lucky to see the Avett Brothers a few times before they got big, which meant less people. Probably this was one of the last times, and is definitely one of my favorites. I caught it with a Johnson City buddy, and Seth and Scott (and Joe and Bob), as always, rocked. Their albums are good, but part of the reason people like them so much is to see them perform live, because they always put on a show. I think this was the first time I saw "Pretty Girl from Chile" performed live...and if you know that song, you know the transition at the end that makes it so memorable. They always play it up!
5. Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers, Owensboro, 2011. This was one that I almost missed. I kept seeing promos all summer that Steve Martin was coming to the ROMP Festival...and yet I waited until the last minute to buy tickets. I cannot explain why. I love bluegrass (especially "newgrass"), I love Steve Martin, I love music festivals that haven't been totally overun by people. There was no reason for me to not go to this. Finally I got my mind around that, and found myself sharing the same breathing room as Steve Martin. I didn't have the best seat, but did make it up from when he first came out to get a photo. After that, I was content to sit towards the back and enjoy the music. And let me tell you, this man can play. Forget comedian Steve Martin - this dude is a serious musician. Well, serious until he cracks jokes between songs...or sings something like "Jubilation Day" or "Atheists Ain't Got No Songs." Yeah...he's still Steve Martin. And he gives one helluva performance.
6. Transiberian Orchestra, Johnson City, 2005. My boyfriend at the time loved TSO, and introduced me to them 3 years before. I immediately loved their albums, and when we were at TTU, we had a chance to see them live at the Ryman in Nashville. It was a good concert, don't get me wrong...but the Ryman's kind of a big deal. Which means, all you better do is play, because you don't want to damage the auditorium. I didn't realize that until we saw TSO again two years later, at Freedom Hall. Apparently when they are not in a historic venue, they have pyrotechnics. And they also make it snow. Again, not just a concert, but a performance! The BF was part of the fan club, so we had close seats. Ever since, nothing gets me in the Christmas spirit quite like power chords, headbanging, and fireworks.
7. The Washington Sax Quartet, Chattanooga, 2000. Now for something completely different! On Leap Day 2000 (it's crazy I remember that), my Dad and I went to either Baylor or McCallie (private schools in Chatt) to see WSaxQ. (Fun trivia - this is the group that plays the intro/transition music to All Things Considered on NPR). This was back when all I wanted to do was be a professional musician and/or composer. I had just turned 17, and that's what I wanted in life. This group was pretty well-known in the saxophone world, so Dad and I shot down to Chattanooga to catch their performance. What's cool is that they played all kinds of different stuff - classical pieces, covers of the Beatles, modern works they had written. It was all over the board. But two things stood out to me: first, their cover of Samuel Barber's "Adagio for Strings." Typically you hear that piece performed by, well, more than just 4 saxophones, but that group nailed it. The build up to the crescendo and that four note climax is just incredible. If you're familiar with the piece, you know that after the climax is a pause - a couple of seconds of silence. Once again, the silence was deafening. I forgot there was a number of people sitting in the same room, which makes me believe we were all captured in that same moment.
Coda:
The second thing I remembered about that concert was what happened after - when I got the group to sign my CD. "I play saxophone too," I told them proudly, as only a new 17 year old can. "And I want to perform and write, just like you. Do you have any advice?"
At that, one of the members looked me straight in the eye and said, "Yes. Get out now."
At first, I thought he was being an ass...but 12 years puts things in perspective. I have a complicated relationship with music - one built around obsession and neglect, which is now relegated, when I am the musician, to solitary basement concerts. Such a relationship is flaky and possibly unreal, sure, but it also has nothing to do with my livelihood.
Words - now, that's something stronger. I can make a life with them. But if I had made music my life, I would have hated it. And too much of my life is invested in music for that to happen.
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