Old Lady Concert Rules: A Frivolous Army

Old Lady Concert Rule #37: Just because you can, doesn't mean you should. 

I own all four solo KISS albums on vinyl. I don't share this because I think I'm cool (I'm not). It doesn't mean I'm a devoted KISS fan either; I only own the solo albums, The most devoted KISS fans would say that means I don't get to be in the club. I have a few singles in my iTunes library...all of which came from my brother's extensive KISS music collection. My top five favorite KISS songs are:

1. "Beth"
2.  "God of Thunder"
3. "Detroit Rock City"
4. "Strutter"/"Hard Luck Woman"
5. "God Gave Rock and Roll To You"

I'm not a deep cut kind of KISS fan. I own all four solo albums because I like collecting ridiculous things. These albums exist for no real reason except it was 1978 and KISS was the most famous band in America (maybe the world, but that might be pushing it). KISS's popularity wasn't just because they put out hit after hit; they put on a damn good show. It was theatrical and included pyrotechnics and costumes and makeup. They were making a ton of money, selling out stadium shows, and being rock and roll stars. The band, their manager, and their label thought, "Let's capitalize on this success by putting out four solo albums. Yeah, that's exactly what we should do." And they did! They made four full solo albums for the sole reason to make money. If this isn't an example of rock and roll hubris, I don't know what is. The albums failed spectacularly, and marked the beginning of the end of the original lineup of the band (Gene Simmons, Peter Criss, Paul Stanley, and Ace Frehley). Obviously, KISS never really went away, both in music and merchandising. You can legit buy anything with some level of KISS branding on it (I type this while looking at a Hello Kitty version of Starchild). I'm seeing them for the second time on Sunday on what is apparently their farewell tour. 

But seriously, these albums. I've owned all of these albums since 2008-ish, but have never listened to them fully or all at one time. I also only paid for one of them; the other three were gifts and they were all used. KISS received nothing from my purchases. In preparation for Sunday's concert, where none of these songs will be played, I thought I'd spend my week listening to all four albums and finally decide if this experiment was the dumpster fire of 1978 everyone says it was.

While there's no agreed upon order in which to listen to these albums, I decided on the bookend approach: Gene Simmons (the most ridiculous album), Paul Stanley, Peter Criss, and Ace Frehley (the best album).  

Like watching crap movies, I do these things so you don't have to. 

Gene Simmons

While my second favorite KISS song is "God of Thunder," Gene Simmons is my least favorite member of the band. I get it, without Gene there is no KISS, but that doesn't mean I have to like him. His solo album feels like what would happen if the 70s threw up on an album. I don't know if Gene has dirt on lots of people or if they were all like, "being on a KISS solo album is really good for my career, so sure I'll sing back up or be the weird talking voice on the worst song ever." Somehow he convinced all of these people to take part.. Donna Summer, Helen Reddy, Bob Seger, Joe Perry, and freaking Cher appear on this album. It's crazy pants and make absolutely no sense at all. 

The song with Donna Summer is a disco song. For a band that hated disco so much, it's weird that all four albums have at least one song that's reminiscent of a disco song or actually is one. 

Best Songs: "See You Tonite," "Radioactive," and " Near You/Nowhere to Hide" 

Worst Song: "Living in Sin" - this is the song that features Cher and the line "I'm living in sin at the Holiday Inn." I can't make this up. 

Song that would be better if someone else sang it: "Mr. Make Believe" - I feel like a Cassidy or maybe Davy Jones should have sang this song. It would have made more sense.
Weirdest Song: Gene singing "When You Wish Upon a Star." It makes no sense, but it exists and you need to listen to it too. 

Fun fact: Katey Sagal is a backup singer on this album. She also dated Simmons at some point.

Paul Stanley

The biggest issue with Paul Stanley's album is that it's not all that memorable. I imagine this is the album Paul would have made if he hadn't been a part of KISS. He would have ended up being a moderately famous solo artist who sang forgettable rock songs. Paul has a great voice, always has, so it's not unpleasant to listen to, just not that exciting. Basically, this is the album KISS would have made if they found their main singer on YouTube and he sounded exactly like Paul Stanley, but was less interesting. 

Best Songs: "Love in Chains," "It's Alright"

Worst Song: I don't remember enough of the other songs to pick a worst song. 

Song that would be better if someone else sang it: "Hold Me, Touch Me" is basically a Carpenters song. 

Fun fact: Keely came out of my bedroom during Paul's album. He hated the rest of this experience, mostly because my listening to records made it hard for him to get in living room window.

Peter Criss

As I was listening to this album, all I could think of was if Quentin Tarantino wasn't the kind of director he is, he could have used this album as the K-Billy's Super Sounds of the 70s soundtrack in Reservoir Dogs. It's the most bluesy (and that's being polite) of the four albums, and feels more old school rock and roll. The other thing that I couldn't help but notice is how quiet the album is. For the album from the drummer, you'd think it would be a little louder, but it's not. I was underwhelmed. 

Best Songs: "You Matter to Me," Hooked on Rock 'N Roll" 

Worst Song: There wasn't really a worst song since most of the rest of the album wasn't memorable.

Songs that would be better if someone else sang it: "Don't You Let Me Down" - another teen idol-y song. "Hooked on Rock 'N Roll" could be a Little Richard song. 

Weird lyrics I can't get over: 

"I was vaccinated with a victrolla needle

And now I'm hooked on rock 'n roll." 

That's not how vaccinations work. I hope everyone knows that. 

Ace Frehley

Hands down, this is the best album of the four. Not only would I listen to this album again in it's entirety, it lives up to the hype of being the best of the solo albums. This is the only album of the four that even comes close to being like a KISS album, and it's just fun to listen to. The single, "New York Groove" was the most successful song from any of the albums, reaching number 13 on the Hot 100. It's a cover of a song by the band Hello, a British glam rock band. Listening to the versions side by side is sort of like listening to Toto and Weezer's versions of "Africa" back to back; a faithful cover that makes you like both songs more than you did before. "New York Groove" is another song that's pretty close to being a disco song. I love this song, so I'm not going to complain, but seriously, it's a disco song. 

By far, my favorite part of the entire album was "Fractured Mirror." It's an instrumental piece and it's awesome. It showcases Frehley's skills as a guitar player. That's really what separates his album from the rest; he wasn't trying to do anything but make something that was going to be fun to listen to. 

Best Songs: "Ozone," "New York Groove," "I'm In Need of Love," and "Fractured Mirror"

There aren't any bad songs on this album. It rocks. All the songs are on YouTube, or you can go out an buy a used version on vinyl and enjoy it the way Ace Frehley and whatever deity you like intended. 

Are these albums terrible? Not really, but in no way were they going to make KISS more popular than they already were in 1978. It was a gamble that didn'tpay off and is one more thing that makes it easy to make fun of KISS if that's a thing you like to do. Ace Frehley's album is the best, and there are seven other songs across the other three albums I'd listen to again. What I find most amusing about these albums is the disco vibe. For a band that hated disco, they sure used it to try to make a buck. But I guess they got the last laugh when disco died and KISS lived on.

Coming soon: I enter a baking contest. Has everyone been lying to me about my baking or can I win a blue ribbon? 

Old Lady Concert Rules: Be really beautiful and really mean...like Diana Ross*

Old Lady Concert Rule #568: Be prepared to stay up very late because concerts never run on time.

I watch a lot of movies about rock bands. One of the constants in movies like Almost Famous, Bohemian Rhapsody, and Rocketman, is that rock stars never show up on time. Shows never start on time and fans have to wait for hours to see their heroes. Being a rock fan sucks sometimes. In my 30-ish years of going to shows, I've never been to a show where the band/musician didn't show up, but I've been to plenty of shows where it felt like an eternity before the show got started. I'm sure some of this is my fault; my family is genetically designed to be at every event early (not on time, early), so I probably get places sooner than I need to. However, modern concerts involve driving to venues, parking millions of miles away, and battling rush hour traffic. Early it is.

Efficiency is not a word I'd usually use to describe a concert. Don't think that I'm disparaging the road crew. These are my people, and I know it's their jobs to organize and orchestrate moving a band and its stage identity from venue to venue over the course of a tour. I was the only person who liked the show Roadies so I get your life. Road crews are amazing. I hope you spend some time thanking the rock show gods for all they do to make your experience enjoyable; this is another way to be a good rock and roll citizen. 

But road crews aren't responsible for the the behavior of the "talent," so it's not their fault when shows don't start on time. I've been backstage at a few shows that were running late and it can be the smallest thing, like trying to find a red t-shirt, that keeps a show from starting on time. I guess this type of thing prolongs the fan anticipation of the first moment when a band steps onstage, but I can't help but think it's also rude when a show starts late. Now venues send out emails a few days before a show with the schedule (opening acts, headliner) including time, but it means nothing. It's an email from a promoter.

When I buy a concert ticket, I've entered into a contract of sorts with the performer. I paid an exorbitant (more than likely) sum of money to come see you, so we agree that:

• I will politely listen to your new songs even if they're not as good as your older work,
• I won't throw anything at the stage,
• I won't shout out "Free Bird!" at any time during the set,
• You show up and start on time,
• You play your hits and not act like a jackass doing so (I'm looking at you, Bob Dylan),
• You get the name of the city right.

I think my requests are pretty fair. None of these things mess with the mystique of the rock star, and I can reasonably assume I'll be home before I have to get up to go to work the next day. Easy.

To say I was pleasantly surprised by my most recent concert experience would be the understatement of the world. I've listened to Diana Ross's music my whole life. My mom is a big fan; she saw the Supremes when she was 16 years old at the Michigan State Fair. My parents grew up 10 minutes away from the original Motown Studios, Hitsville, USA. I know all the words to most of her hits, both with the Supremes and as a solo artist. I follow Diana Ross on Twitter, and it's a treat. I don't know if age has mellowed her, or if the rumors of her legendary meanness were exaggerated, but Diana Ross the performer is a really lovely human being. And also incredibly efficient. 

Not only did the concert start exactly on time (8 pm), but it continued to be a model of efficiency throughout the entire two hour experience. The opening act, Diana's daughter Rhonda and her band, played for exactly 20 minutes. Their drum kit and keyboards were on rollers, so the set strike took about 5 minutes. Diana's band started her opening music, which was surprisingly aggressive, at exactly 8:30. She blazed onto the stage in a canary yellow costume singing "I'm Coming Out" and moved through 18 more songs in the next hour and a half. She changed costumes five times, and had the costume change exit and entrance down to 2 minutes. It was impressive. I know how hard it is to be a dresser, so I'm impressed with the efficiency of any costume change. Diana was rocking dresses from her "archive," so all of her looks were vintage dresses and puffy coats. I enjoyed all of Diana's looks except the purple one; she looked like a grape.

The show was done before 10 pm. This included the opener, Diana's entire set, and an awkward Q&A segment before she sang her closing number "Reach Out and Touch (Somebody's Hand)." I can't remember the last time I was walking out of a concert venue before 11 pm. The old lady in me was excited that despite having to sit in the parking lot for 30 minutes, I was still going to get home before midnight on a school night. It was amazing. Everyone can learn a concert efficiency lesson from Diana Ross and her crew. 

(Inspired by this exchange from the movie Juno: 
Juno: My dad had this weird obsession with Roman or Greek mythology or something and he decided to name me after Zeus' wife.
Mark: Zeus' wife?
Juno: Yeah and I mean Zeus had tons of lays but I'm pretty sure Juno was his only wife. An apparently she was supposed to be super beautiful by really mean...kind of like Diana Ross.)

Old Lady Concert Rules: Twirling, Twirling, Gone

Old Lady Concert Rule #15 (maybe): Keep your twirling to yourself!

It's been almost six years since I first put the Old Lady Concert rules to paper. Of course, by "paper" I mean I wrote an Island post about them. The rules have been modified, added to, and discussed at great lengths since that post. Most recently, I created a new rule for wearing the shirt of the band you're going to see after experiencing an entire city of people being that guy. I refer to this modification as "the Tim Rule" because my friend Tim asked about an exception and he deserves one. What I realized recently is that I've never addressed a very important topic in the Old Lady Concert rules: dancing.

I'm an awkward dancer. I took dance classes as a child and I was in the chorus in musicals, but neither one of those things equals confident dancer. I could blame lots of things for this particular awkward trait, but it comes down to self-confidence in my late teens and early twenties. I'm sure others can relate to this. As I've moved into my thirties (almost to my forties), I've decided I don't really care anymore and want to spend my remaining concert going years rocking out and dancing as awkwardly and exuberantly as I can. However, my dancing should not impede the enjoyment of others at any concert. This brings us to our newest Old Lady Concert Rule: Keep your twirling to yourself.

One of my favorite parts of going to concerts is people watching. This is particularly true when I go to shows featuring bands I'm not as interested in as my concert buddy. People watching gives me something to focus on when I don't know the words to the song or don't have a super emotional connection to what's going on. At shows I'm 100% into, it's a fun way to see how other fans of a band or musician I like react to the same music. Is there a lot of close-eyed swaying or toe-tapping? How many white dudes are doing their best to do something with their bodies that sort of resembles dancing, but also might resemble getting dressed in really tight clothing? Concerts are mini-communities and we all have our role to play in those communities. My decision to create a rule about dancing isn't about judgment or not wanting people to express their joy at a show; it's about being socially and situationally aware. Let's face it, an intense twirler can ruin a concert for everyone.

Let's break down my favorite concert dance forms. I freely admit to being many of these, despite my tendency to dance awkwardly in public. Sometimes, the music is in control and you have to let it be expressed through the muse of dance (thank you, Corky St. Clair).

• The Twirler: I went to Lilith Fair in 1997, so I'm no stranger to twirlers at concerts. I was also a little girl at one point in my life, and while I didn't love wearing dresses when I was younger, I did love to twirl. The fun of twirling really can't be put into words; if you've never twirled, stop reading and twirl around wherever you are for one minute. Don't you feel magical? I get it, sometimes the music is so much that you have to twirl. I want nothing more for you than to embrace your inner Stevie Nicks and twirl and twirl and twirl. Except when we're in a small, somewhat confined space, like say the 9:30 Club or most other small, bar venues. Twirling is probably the least ideal dance form in small spaces. Drink spillage alone could cost you hundreds of dollars if the people impacted want you to buy them a new drink. Or you twirl too much and hit someone right in the eye. Twirl with caution, which is probably a song on Stevie Nicks' next solo album.
• The White Dude Shuffle: White dudes dancing is one of my favorite things to watch at a concert. There are many levels to white dudes dancing, but the the White Dude Shuffle is by far the most expressive and fun to watch. The White Dude Shuffle is all about the arms and slight movement from the left foot to the right foot, but it's really about the arms and waist motions. I see this type of dancing at every type of show I go to; it's slightly out of sync with the rhythm of the song. The best White Dude Shuffle happens at punk and hard rock shows when a guy doesn't join the mosh pit melee, but still wants to groove. Nothing says concert entertainment more than a bunch of burly, heavily tattooeed white dudes shuffling to a Dropkick Murphys or Violent Femmes song. (Confession: This dude is my type. I can't help it. If he looks like the diner owner in season one of Stranger Things, I'm done.) The one thing to watch out for is eye closing; for whatever reason, a lot of eye closing happens with the White Dude Shuffle. This could be bad for you if they shuffle too intensely because it could quickly devolve into elbowing and then you're attending a hockey game you didn't want to attend.
• The Swayer: My brother is a swayer. A swayer is a person who sways in time to a song. Swayers are the most unobtrusive concert dancers; they have virtually no impact on anyone else; most of us are a swayer at some point in our concert-going life. Swaying is easiest when you attend a show where you don't have any vested interest in the band because you're involved, but not heavily involved. Where the Swayer becomes problematic is when he or she (I'm sometimes a swayer) gets so into the swaying that they dance dangerously close to the line of twirling. If you see a swayer moving past their personal space, hold your drink and prepare for modified twirl.
• The Air Guitarist/Drummer: When I went to see AC/DC two years ago with my brother, Dave Grohl was in attendance. Dave is from NOVA and is a huge AC/DC fan so it made sense that he'd pick this show to attend. We were directly across the arena from him. This meant we could see a blurry Dave Grohl the entire night. He did what I thought he might do for much of the concert: he air drummed. Air drumming and its cousin, air guitar playing, are a lot like twirling in that they can take up a lot of space and possibly cause injury if no one is paying attention. Both of these activities can be great if a person is at a seated show because they only have some much in which to rock out.
• The Rock Chick from a 1980s Video: Bless the 1980s rock video. Most of these videos have very formulaic plots, and almost all of them involve one "hot" girl dancing for extended shots, usually on the hood of a car. Enjoy Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" if you've never experienced this type of video. Big hair, big boobs, either super tight clothes or flow-y dresses, high heels; these are the signs of this type of concert dancer. These ladies have mastered the fine art of being able to dance to anything. They're why metal fans complained about Def Leppard and bands like Whitesnake, but continued to attend concerts. Dudes were conflicted about how much a band could truly rock if girls could dance to the music (said in a way more colorful way). If you ever need a good pep talk, say one of two things to yourself: "Have the confidence of an average white male" or "Own a room like a 1980s Rock Chick." Both are surprisingly helpful.
• The Headbangers: My brother often leaves his swaying behind and headbangs during very specific concerts or songs. Take him to a Metallica show and it's headbanging all the way. Metal bands tend to have the most dedicated of headbangers; the fast-paced, heavy music is designed for this type of enjoyment. It takes no actual skill, but a strong attachment to the rhythm and feeling of the music. Headbangers have a gentler cousin, who resembles a bobble head figure, and is usually present at rock shows. Do long-time headbangers have neck problems?
• The Music Feeler: At every show I attend, there is at least one person who is feeling the music so deeply that their body takes over and does whatever it wants to do. It could be a combination of every other dancing type listed or it could be something completely unique. At the Violent Femmes/Echo & the Bunnymen show on Wednesday at the Anthem, there was a couple in front of me that both were part of this category. During the Echo set, they had a ton of real estate to themselves and were just feeling it. For the woman, it manifested as a lot of twirling and intense swaying. She was also into the moves of a nearby 80s Rock Chick. The guy was a combo of a swayer, a twirler (yes, dudes can twirl), and a shuffler. Some people go to church, others go to rock shows.
• The Self-Contained Mosh Pit Guy: A mosh pit is a thing of beauty when viewed from several hundred feet above or from the way, way back of a club. I've been to many shows in my life that involved pits, but have always stayed outside of them for many reasons. The pit can be a violent place, intentionally or unintentionally, and is a culture unto itself. This is not about the mosh pit; it's about that one guy (and it's usually a guy) who creates his own one person pit right next to you during a show. This is a guy who employs his pit moves, like shuffling (which can be a thing in the pit), body slamming, and jumping for himself only. I feel some of these guys want you to join in and others just don't know any other way to express themselves physically when attending a show so they default to the pit behavior they're used to. My reaction to a self-contained mosh pit guy is to shove him back and protect my space at all costs. Elbows out, friends.
• The "Dance With Me" Couple: This has the potential to be the saddest dancing at a show or will end up being something out of an amateur porn film you don't want to watch. The woman in the couple always wants to dance. She tries everything to get the guy to dance with her. In the sad version, he completely ignores her or continually pushes her off, and continues his swaying (he's usually a swayer) until she gets so mad she storms off. Or they get into a fight in the middle of the show. In the porn-lite version, he gets into it and the girl becomes an 80s Rock Chick and he's the car hood. Neither is particularly fun to witness.

I want everyone to enjoy every show they go to. Every time I watch a person dance at a concert, I know in my heart that they are living their best possible lives at that exact moment. Sometimes the behavior awakens my inner Old Lady Concertgoer and I have to work hard at getting her to calm it down. Other times, it makes me joyful and warms a part of my cynical heart. My rule is in place to help us all be the best rock and roll citizens we can be. If we can all work together to be good rock and roll citizens, there's nothing we can't do.

Coming this August: Beer festival shenanigans at a prison, we discuss counter-protesting and the fact that no one should have to have "confronted a Nazi" as something they need to do in 2018, and a random Lazy Movie Weekend will appear. 

Concert Buddy Chronicles: Closer I Am to Fine

Old Lady Concert Rule #12 (probably): Always have a concert buddy.

Concert buddies are an important part of the concert going experience. Even for me, a person who enjoys doing things by myself, concerts don't fall into the group of activities that are more enjoyable alone. I would add sporting events, protests, holiday parties (particularly for work), and weddings to the list of things you should never attend alone. The safety factor is one part of this, but honestly, concerts are just more fun when you go with other people.

I've attended a few concerts by myself over the years and it's not nearly as much fun as it should be. Most of the shows have been at places like Ram's Head in Baltimore and the 9:30 Club in DC, which are both standing room only venues. Take the fun factor out of the mix for a second, logistical items like getting a drink or going to the bathroom are much more difficult because there's no one to protect your space. Despite my height, I prefer to stand at the back of the club, so it's a little better for me, but it's still annoying. If you don't make friends with your neighbors, you're out of luck. I lucked out at the last show I saw alone and made friends with the two people standing next to me. They protected my space and I did the same for them. We were all wearing the same shoes, which is why we started talking. Granted, it was a Green Day show so the odds were in my favor that at least half of the crowd would be wearing the same shoes as me, but they could have been jerks and then I would have been out of luck.

That's been my experience at most of the other shows I've gone to by myself. People around me weren't the most pleasant or just kept to themselves, which is 100% acceptable. At a Patti Smith show a few years ago, I got into an uncomfortable discussion with two drunk, older dudes next to me about how everything was better before I was born. They had seen her in the 70s in New York and it was so much better (obviously) and I was so unlucky to be born when I was born. I told them to stop talking like a bunch of elitist concert-going assholes. They were one step away from telling kids to get off their lawns and turn that racket down. This could have gone very bad, very quickly, but instead they apologized and offered to protect my space if I wanted to go get a drink or anything. They were polite to me the rest of the night. I could tell they were also annoyed; such is the delicate ego of a 70s "punk" dude.

These experiences aside, going to concerts with friends is funner. There's no other word to describe it. From the waiting to get in or in the parking lot to the people watching to the actual concert itself, the experience is better with other people. Having a concert buddy is actually how the Old Lady Concert rules became a thing; I started complaining about people standing at a seated show, which led to me discussing my old lady tendencies with Anita. The rules were born and we must abide.

My older brother, Scott, and my friend Anita are my concert buddies. I could add my dad here as well since he did take me to my first two concerts, but I'm not sure that counts. Both Scott and Anita are ideal concert buddies: we like a lot of the same music, but also like different musicians so we all get exposed to new bands because of the other person. I took both of them to their first Decemberists concert (different shows) and Anita went with me to Wilco last summer. Scott and I tend to go to metal shows or we travel for shows. He's the kind of concert buddy that replies, "Memphis" when you ask where he wants to see the Foo Fighters.

This brings me to the Indigo Girls.

I have to admit something about my life as a 90s girl: I only know three songs by the Indigo Girls. Not only do I only know three songs by the band, they're the songs that everyone knows, "Closer to Fine", "Galileo", and "Elizabeth." I'm sure I know other songs by the band, but I couldn't name them if you paid me a million dollars. They're just not my jam. However, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate their music or their talent. Amy and Emily are amazingly talented and also happen to be exceptionally cool human beings. They're activists and have been successful both as a duo and as solo artists. They were also hugely popular at a time in my life where so much good music was coming out. As I always tell people, you can't listen to everything. While I never disliked them, I was more into Tori Amos, Liz Phair, Riot Grrrl bands like Bikini Kill and Sleater-Kinney, grunge bands, Green Day, and hard rock from the 70s. I listened to R.E.M. and 10,000 Maniacs and Fiona Apple. I was "discovering" Big Star and the Velvet Underground and enjoying a bunch of really terrible one-hit wonder songs from bands whose names I can't remember. The 1990s were an amazing time for music.

Anita, on the other hand, is a huge Indigo Girls fan. She's now seen them in concert 15 times. She knows all the words and all the guitars. So when she asked me to go with her to the concert (which was last week), of course I said yes. That's what concert buddies do. I'm also never going to say no to going to Wolf Trap, except for live theatre and the Grease sing-a-long. Trust me on both of these things.

It was a great show. The opening act, The War and Treaty, were super fun. They reminded me of a few bands I used to go see in New Orleans. They're a husband and wife duo and are maybe the most adorable human beings I've ever seen on stage together. They came out later to join the Indigo Girls for "Closer to Fine," which closed out the encore. The Indigo Girls tour with a band sometimes; this is not that tour. It's the two of them and a violinist (Lyris Hung). They switch out guitars for almost every song. Anita told me it's a system the band has had in place for years. She told that there was a time in her Indigo Girls fan life where she could have told me the song they were about to play because of the guitars. That is a true fan.

What I enjoyed most about this concert was that I had no expectations at all. Normally when I go see a show, I stress about whether the band is going to play my favorite song or if they're going to be play too many new songs. With few exceptions, new songs aren't always the best songs (I'm looking at you, Bob Dylan on the Modern Times tour). Concert anticipation is both a blessing and a curse; it can often lead to a horrible let down. I didn't have to experience that at all with the Indigo Girls. I figured they'd play "Closer to Fine" and "Galileo." I wasn't going to be disappointed if they didn't play "Elizabeth" or if they only played "Closer to Fine." My stake in the concert game was low, and it was amazing. I spent time watching Anita and other fans experience their favorite (or a favorite) band. It was nice to just listen to very talented musicians do their thing and fans enjoying themselves.

If that's not a perfect summer concert, I don't know what is.

 Next time on the Island: Another concert, the song of the summer, and why sometimes you need to follow really innocent accounts on Twitter.

Set list photo

Old Lady Concert Rules: This entire city is that guy

There is a startling epidemic in the city of Memphis. No, I'm not talking about crime or gentrification or drugs. No, I'm talking about something completely frivolous: it's a city of people being that guy.

If you didn't grow up on a steady diet of 90s era comedies like me, let me refresh your memory on what "being that guy" means. In the 1994 campus comedy PCU, Jeremy Piven's Droz leads a group of weirdos from "the Pit" in a crusade against a massive wave of political correctness on campus. In one scene, he stops Gutter (Jon Favreau) as Gutter is leaving to catch his ride to a concert. Gutter is wearing the shirt of the band he's going to see. Droz stops Gutter and tells him he needs to change because you can't wear the shirt of the band you're going to see. Don't be that guy.

Other than the fact that PCU was probably the last time anyone truly enjoyed Jeremy Piven, it has the distinction of inspiring my first Old Lady Concert Rule: don't wear the shirt of the band you're going to see. Don't be that guy. Over the years, I've added more rules to this list and the shirt rule is now number two on the actual list I created. I get it; you go to a show, buy a shirt, and then you go to see the band again, and you think, "I'll wear the shirt I bought last time this time and I'll be awesome. Everyone will know I've seen them before and I'll be super cool. It's going to be epic!" Concert shirts used to be the way to identify your people; people who share a love of the same band or musician you love. That is not how the world works anymore. I can buy literally any band/concert shirt I want on the internet. It'll be delivered to my home in a few days or immediately with a drone if I give Jeff Bezos my first born. This takes a little fun out of the community of concert goers. I don't know if I'm talking to someone who actually likes AC/DC or someone who bought a cool shirt at Urban Outfitters. The internet ruins so many things.

We were in Memphis to see the Foo Fighters show. Graceland was an added bonus because we were there and it felt wrong to go all the way to Memphis and not visit the King. Also, I'm a huge Elvis fan so it would actually be a violation of some fan rule somewhere (probably). Anyway, the day of the Foo Fighters show, we decided to see the Peabody ducks, walk around Beale Street, day drink, and tour the Memphis Rock 'N' Soul Museum and Memphis Music Hall of Fame.

Please enjoy this video of the Peabody ducks:

We saw the first guy (and girl) at the Peabody. We were having breakfast before the ducks came down and this couple was at the table next to us. They were both wearing Foo Fighters shirts. Then we saw a few more people at the duck ceremony, one of whom was carrying a Foo Fighters record. I guess he wanted to bring it to the show? Maybe he had tickets for a meet and greet; I don't know. It seemed odd. It didn't stop with the people at the Peabody; we saw Foo Fighters shirts all day, from wandering down Beale Street to day drinking to having dinner. We reached peak "being that guy" experience as we sat outside the FedEx Forum waiting to go in. Everywhere we looked, there were people being that guy. In some cases, there were entire families in matching shirts being that guy together.

My brother and I made jokes about this all day and discussed whether there were sub-rules for the "being that guy rule." Here are some possible sub-rules we came up with:

• When in a group or couple, don't wear the same shirt of the band you're going to see. If you're going to be that guy, at least be unique.
• If the shirt is more than 10 years old, you may wear the shirt to the show if you actually went to the original show 10 years ago or you inherited said shirt from your parents. I'm calling this "the Tim Rule" in honor of my friend Tim who deserves to wear the shirts he has collected over the years. He is an excellent rock and roll citizen.
• Teach your children not to be that guy. If you're going to be the cool parents who take their kids to shows and are lucky enough to have kids who like the same music you do, make sure they end up as good rock and roll citizens. They don't need to be that guy.

I know some of you are saying, "Geez, Erin, I thought you liked the fact that music brings together a community of people. You're always saying that. Maybe you should acknowledge the shirts as a way to do that. Also, why are you being so un-fun?" Yes, I am always saying that and I do love this about music. It's one of the things I love most about music, generally speaking. I love finding people who enjoy the same bands and musicians I do and listening to music with them. I love arguing with people about music. But I have never walked up to a person wearing a Foo Fighters shirt and just started chatting with them. That's not my style and given our less than civil society, they'd probably be uncomfortable with a stranger randomly talking to them. People are weird that way. That's why this is an old lady concert rule; un-fun is okay in the world of old lady concert rules.

It's also very possible I negated the t-shirt rule anyway since I stood for almost the entire Foo Fighters show. Granted, we were in the last row of our section and the box seating was directly behind us so no one was going to miss out if we stood. That's the kind of show you get when you go to a Foo Fighters show; it's the sort of show that makes you want to stand and dance and sing along. It's three hours of rock and roll awesomeness. I can't think of another band that exemplifies rock and roll citizenship like the Foo Fighters. And yes, they did play the "Imagine/Jump" mashup. It was the perfect way to end a day of wandering around music history.

Did I mention the goat? We had time to kill between museums and the concert so we decided to visit a bar called Silky O'Sullivans. It's a bar on Beale Street known for its BBQ, New Orleans-y vibe (the owner was king in five different Mardi Gras krewes in the 80s and 90s), and beer guzzling goats. Apparently, the goats used to dive off the goat tower (one of only four in the world) and would drink beer so they were also drunk goats. According to our waiter, the goats went to rehab and are now sober (PETA complained). You can feed them crackers and watch them wander around their pen and walk to the top of the tower. We didn't feed them, but we did watch them as we listened to a local band and day drank. I highly recommend the Pink Cadillac and friend pickles. It might sound like a weird combination, but it's delicious.

We had dinner at Dyer's Burgers - the secret is in the 100 year old grease they use to cook the burger. They were damn good.

Old Lady Concert Rules: Loving you is cherry pie

Some pop confessions I need to make:

• Madonna's "Lucky Star" was the first pop song where I memorized both the lyrics and the video choreography. If pressed today, I could sing the song and probably do about half of the choreography. Eighties-era Madonna will always be my favorite.
• I stopped listening to boy bands after New Kids on the Block. I cannot stand any of the 90s era boy bands, but I enjoy Justin Timberlake's solo work. 
• I adore Ariana Grande as a human being and a member of the Hairspray Live cast, but only know two of her songs and only like one of them.
• "Toxic" is my favorite Britney Spears song because everyone has one favorite Britney Spears song.
• The Spice Girls are overrated. 
• Even though I actively fear the Beyhive, I don't love Beyonce. I appreciate her artistic vision and her social activism. The only Beyonce song I listen to is "Crazy in Love" and that's mostly because of the line about pagers which makes me giggle uncontrollably.  
• Until yesterday, I would have considered myself, at best, a casual Lady Gaga fan. 

I feel so much better after getting all of that out. Most of the true pop music I love is from the 1970s and 1980s, the best time for pop music. Give me David Cassidy (let's hope he gets better), Madonna, and every British synth band ever. While the 1990s was a heady time for pop music, there was so much else going on that I didn't focus on it much. By then, I was into rock, metal, old school punk, and alternative/indie music. Pop isn't my thing and that has continued well into the 2000s. I would never begrudge anyone their love of pop music; love what/who you love and own it. That's my motto when it comes to anything pop culture.

So I was late to the world of Lady Gaga. Her first album, The Fame (later reissued as The Fame Monster) was released in 2008 and catapulted her to stardom with songs like "Poker Face", "Paparazzi", "Just Dance," and "Bad Romance" (on the reissue). I was less interested in the songs on her first album, but drawn to the stage persona she created. The visual story Lady Gaga tells is amazing. It's avant-garde and weird and fun. It fells very much like long-form performance art. She was (still is) intriguing in the same way Bowie was intriguing in his many characters and personas throughout his early albums. Lady Gaga was another space alien dropped into our midst to bring us art and music and love. I just ignored her at first.

It wasn't until the Christmas after The Fame came out that I started to have an appreciation for Lady Gaga and her music rather than Lady Gaga and her spectacle. I was in Detroit for Christmas that year with my family and we happened to have a Canadian pop/rock station on while we were in town (you can get some Windsor-based radio stations in Detroit and some Detroit-based stations in Windsor). Anyway, "Paparazzi" was in heavy rotation on this station, playing every hour. Normally, this would annoy me. It's part of the reason I don't listen to pop stations; it's always the same songs on rotation. It gets boring. However, in this case, I became obsessed with the song. I was genuinely disappointed when I didn't hear it while in the car. I wasn't focused on the visual of the video, which is fantastic, but on the lyrics. At it's core, "Paparazzi" is about fandom. Obsessive, stalk-y fandom, but fandom nonetheless. There's a wonderful lyric in the third verse (I think), "Loving you is cherry pie" that I adore. Listening to this song on repeat that Christmas made me appreciate Lady Gaga for than the spectacle. I was starting to like her for her lyrics. I went home, bought a bunch of her songs, and and read the liner notes, one of my favorite musical past-times. Lady Gaga can write a song.

In the years since my Canadian radio obsession, she's released several more albums including the wildly successful Born This Way, worn a dress made out of meat at the VMAs, won some Grammys, and stole AHS: Hotel from everyone else who was on the show. She gave an amazing performance at the Super Bowl and performed with Metallica. She also did an album with Tony Bennett and has become an advocate for LGBTQ causes, created the Born This Way Foundation, worked with "Uncle" Joe Biden on the "It's On Us" campaign, and released the haunting "Til It Happens to You" for the film The Hunting Ground.

And then there's Joanne. Her current album, the one she's on tour with, is awesome. It's some of the pop-ness of her previous albums, but there's more rock and country influences weaving their way through. The lyrics on all of the songs, but particularly "Joanne," "Diamond Heart", and "Million Reasons," are solid. I can listen to the entire album on my commute to work in the morning and it's awesome. I feel like if you didn't like her previous albums, you'd like this one. It's got a little something for everyone. Critics have called it her most personal album; she even alluded to that during the concert. The album has a more mature, but also vulnerable and raw quality that the other albums don't have. I can listen to the whole album and start over again without even thinking twice. That doesn't often happen for me with full albums.

I had the opportunity to see the Joanne tour last night here in DC. My company has a suite at the Verizon/Capital One/Figure Out a Name Already Arena and I got tickets in a ticket lottery. My friend, Emily, joined me for the concert. I don't know that Emily and I can ever do things like concerts and baseball games together again; it seems like we always end up in the most extreme version of the event we can experience. It's exhausting. For the record, now that I've seen the show, if I could go back in time and buy tickets I would. A Lady Gaga concert is worth the money.

To say that it was a good concert would be like saying we need water to survive. It was a phenomenal concert; it's definitely in my top five concerts of all time. A Lady Gaga concert has everything: elaborate sets, fire, costume changes, cheeky language, love, rainbow bridges that make one think of The Wizard of Oz, risque choreography, salty language, awesome choreography, and beautiful lyrics. There were moments when I was overwhelmed by her talent and her humanness all at the same time. Some of my favorite moments were when she played the piano with nothing else going on. The acoustic version of "The Edge of Glory" was one of my favorite concert moments of all time. We also got to be involved in the American Music Awards (AMAs) which were on last night too. She performed "The Cure" from the concert on the show. Later on, they cut back to us when her category was announced and she won for Best Female Pop/Rock artist. It was a cool addition to an amazing experience.

As I told my mother, it felt like Lady Gaga wanted to give us all a hug and a puppy, but also wants us to be super fierce and not take anyone's shit. She talks about her pain, both emotional and physical, as a source of inspiration. She encourages people to ask for help and to understand "invisible" illnesses like chronic pain and mental illness. She told people to be nice to the 2 people in the arena who didn't cheer when she asked if they were part of the LGBTQ community or an ally of said community. Lady Gaga has created a space where her fans can come together and be themselves and love life and each other and be awesome. Lady Gaga fans, the Little Monsters, are delightful. Part of the fun of the show was seeing people in costume (from their favorite songs and albums), including a large number of men in the outfit from the cover of Joanne. Gentlemen, I salute you and your white pants. It's so different from other fandoms I've experienced. I'm sure there are catty Little Monsters, but I've never met one.

I woke up this morning, after way less sleep than I'm used to, feeling amazing. I had a wonderful Monday. Is it after effects of a truly inspirational concert experience? It might just be.

Please excuse me while I go listen to Joanne again.

 Happy Thanksgiving from the Island! A new Lazy Movie Weekend post will be up on Saturday (or Friday night if I'm super ambitious).

Tell me that part about Metallica again...

A few comments:

1. No one has perfect hair rolling out of bed at such an early hour. No one.
2. Metallica and the Offspring shouldn't be used comparatively since they're not in the same genre. Punk and metal are cousins. What good comes of comparing cousins unless your family is mean spirited and horrible?
3. Christopher was always the wrong choice. Always.

I saw a rerun of this episode the day after I saw Metallica live and thought it was a sign from the musical gods that I needed to write about Metallica this week. What I find most infuriating about this particular clip is Christopher's immediate jump from an adult conversation (one he started about marriage and their relationship) to a childish dig on a band he doesn't like but Lorelai does. A band he probably doesn't think girls should like and therefore, because Lorelai does like said band, she is irrational and wrong about all things not just her choice of music. A woman can't possibly like Metallica. Or Black Sabbath. Or any other loud, aggressive music. Christopher is the worst.

My enjoyment of heavy metal music is one of those things people find amusing about me. When I say "heavy metal" I'm talking about more mainstream metal not the dark, dark stuff some people enjoy but you get my point. When this particular topic comes up in conversation or via the blog, people laugh. I remember a conversation with a male friend that went something like this:

Me: I saw Black Sabbath on tour last summer. It was an odd show; Ozzy looked like he was wearing pjs and he occasionally shuffled around the stage like he didn't know where he was. But the music was solid.
Him: You went to a Black Sabbath concert?
Me: Sure. I hadn't them live before so why wouldn't I go? I've also seen Def Leppard a few times, Metallica, and KISS. (Side note: we can argue levels of metal later.)
Him: Really? That just so weird. You're wearing a sweater with pineapples on it.
Me: I'm not sure what my pineapple sweater and my enjoyment of any type of music has to do with one another. I also really enjoy The Ramones. Is this problematic for you?
Him: I just imagine you like girl bands and I don't know, Beyonce. Girls like that type of music. You probably only like metal because you thought a guy would like you more. 
Me: (Pauses...scene in which I punch guy in the throat flashes in front of me as well as my favorite Clue quote.)

Me: As much as I love when guys explain music to me, we should probably go back to talking about work. There's less of a possibility that I'll punch you in the throat if we talk about work. 

(I'm not friends with this person anymore.)
 
I have a long relationship with Metallica. I grew up in the suburbs and my brother is a metalhead so I was destined to enjoy them. I've listened to this type of music since I was at least 9 years old. My brother is one of my earliest musical influences. It's from him that I learned about Metallica, Motorhead, Megadeth, GNR, Anthrax, Black Sabbath, and all the bands in between. He's also responsible for my spiral into hair metal bands. Face it, hair metal is a gift from the heavens and we should all just admit how much we love it and move on. He's my regular concert buddy when these shows come to town. We've seen Black Sabbath, Metallica, KISS, Motley Crue, Alice Cooper, and Def Leppard together. We are super critical of opening acts. We try to predict what the encore will include (we were half right for Metallica this week). In addition to the music itself, we have very dynamic conversations at shows about things like the psychology of the mosh pit. My brother is my favorite person. 

I've seen Metallica in concert twice (2009 and this past Wednesday). I own four of their albums. I know the lyrics to many of their songs. I follow them on social media. I sat through Some Kind of Monster, the mildly ridiculous documentary about the time the band went through group therapy while working on a new album (and Dave Mustaine from Megadeth probably cried off camera). According to James Hetfield's welcome at the show on Wednesday, I'm part of the Metallica family. And the Metallica family doesn't judge...probably.

Metallica is one of those bands that has always been in the my musical mix; sometimes they move to the front, sometimes they're the background while I enjoy other things. But they're never not there. I was thinking about this at the show this week. There is one song that is always front and center for me when I think about my relationship with Metallica. That song is "One."

My brother had a television in his bedroom when we were kids. He watched a lot of MTV and I remember watching videos with him on the rare occasion I was allowed in his room (we're six years apart) so he was a teenager at the time and I was annoying. In 1989, when "One" debuted, he would have been 15 and I was 9. The song is from the album ...And Justice for All. This album was the first Metallica album to reach any sort of commercial success; they were mostly an underground thrash metal band before this. It's also a fiercely political album; there are songs about the environment, censorship, and inequality. "One" was the considered an antiwar song (which I'll get into in a few minutes) and has the distinction of being the first Metallica song to get a music video. In case you haven't seen it:

There are three versions of the video: the above version (the original, long version), a shortened version, and a version missing the scenes from the movie. The original, with the film scenes, is the one I saw in 1989. The film scenes are from an 1971 antiwar movie called Johnny Got His Gun based on the novel of the same name. The film centers around a young man named Joe Bonham who goes off to fight in World War I and returns home as a quad amputee who also lost his eyes, nose, and ability to speak. He remains conscious of what's happening to him but unable to communicate with anyone. The film goes between hospital scenes and flashbacks of him with his family and in battle (and one where he imagines himself part of a freak show). Eventually, he remembers Morse code and begins to send an "SOS" signal to his nurses and doctors and repeats "kill me" over and over again. No one listens to him and he's left alone to an unknown fate. The film wasn't particularly successful, although Jimmy Carter used to show it to members of his cabinet when he was governor of Georgia, but became something of a cult classic after Metallica used in the "One" video. The band eventually bought the film rather than having to pay royalties every time they used the footage.

The video terrified me when I first saw it. Imagine being 9 years old and watching this. First, it's in black and white which is scarier than color film (it's the way light casts shadows in black and white). Then there's the war imagery, the guy hidden from view, the horrible dialogue from the film. It's a lot to handle. This is also the era of long-haired, scary looking Metallica. They all looked dangerous (yes, we can argue they still might look a bit dangerous). Metal is a very physical form of music and they all fit that part so well. James Hetfield and Jason Newsted (this was his first album with the band) were particularly creepy; they both looked like horror movie villains.

Then there are the lyrics. Now as a 9 year old, I was probably not paying as close attention to the lyrics as I do today but here's a sample:

Verse 1:
I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me
Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up, I cannot see
That there's not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now 

Or maybe you're more of a verse 3 kind of person:
I cannot live
I cannot die
Trapped in myself
Body my holding cell
Landmine has taken my sight
Taken my speech
Taken my hearing
Taken my arms
Taken my legs 
Taken my soul
Left me with life in hell

Even if I wasn't paying close attention back then, there are some lines that jump out and my 9 year old self would have heard. Let's not forget the chorus: "Hold my breath as I wish for death/Oh please God, wake me," not exactly the stuff of pop music (which is what I was listening to at the time). I didn't understand why my brother would like such scary things but he did. I didn't understand what it was like to be a teenager and the feelings of alienation and suburban ennui that marked the life of one. Metallica is defiant and that's appealing. They're loud and angry (also appealing). I wasn't a teenager so I didn't get it. I understood this about music later but at that time, I was a little kid who thought it was scary.

Of course, once my brother knew I was scared of the video he would use the information to his advantage, calling me into the room when it was on and singing the lyrics every now and then. Such is the job of a big brother. My fear didn't stop me from being fascinated by the band. I remember borrowing (stealing) my brother's cassette tapes and listening to them when he wasn't home. When other Metallica videos would come on MTV, I'd watch them even when my friends wanted to change the channel. I was hooked but I would never, ever admit it to my brother. I continued listening to my boy bands and pop stars until finally one day, I gave up and embraced my love of all things heavy metal and punk and loud. I credit hair metal for getting me over boy bands; why listen to NKOTB when you can listen to Poison? It was logical at the time.

So there was no boy I was trying to impress because at 9 years old, I didn't care about impressing boys. One day, I saw a really scary music video and I was never able to get it out of my head. I embraced the scary and became a lifelong fan. That's it. I know it's hard to believe that girls and women simply like things because we like things. Our job is not to sit around and think about all the ways to impress a dude with our love of some band. If I did that, I'd have spent more time in my life asking guys to explain Enya and Kid Rock to me than doing anything else, including sleeping. I have zero time for that. I'd rather spend my time listening to "Harvester of Sorrow," my fourth favorite Metallica song, and contemplating the psychology of the mosh pit.

This photo doesn't do the red light on the crowd justice. It was a super cool effect.

Clue meme

Down at the Rock N Roll Club

There's a great documentary called The Other F Word that chronicles prominent punk musicians (which I know is probably an oxymoron) as they navigate the world of fatherhood. Matt Freeman and Lars Frederikson from Rancid, the lead singer of Everclear, one of the Blink-182 guys, Tony Hawk, and Mark Mothersbaugh of Devo and musical score fame are some of the dads featured. I saw this documentary a few years ago on Showtime (of all places). It's a great documentary for many reasons: some of these guys came from single parent homes (mostly raised by mothers) or dealt with abusive or absent fathers and their music is an output of those experiences. Aggression, anger, and pain fuel some of their best songs. Then add their own entry into fatherhood into the mix and it's fascinating to see each one deal with having children and what that means as a punk. I can't remember if it's Tony Adolescent from the band The Adolescents or someone else, but I remember a part of the movie where one of the guys talks about having to decide on curfews and rules knowing that A. he had none of those things and B. he did a lot stupid and illegal things when he was kids' ages. Was he being a good parent, a narc, or something else entirely?

This particular documentary popped into my head as I was standing in line and later standing in the 9:30 Club waiting for the Green Day show to start. I go to a lot of concerts; it's one of my favorite things to do. The types of bands I go see tend to be the types of bands that have fans of all ages. Some of that is the appeal of their music; some of it is younger people coming to see bands they like that their parents introduced them to and they get to share in the concert experience. I think the last time I was at a show with only people my own age was The Strokes show I went to in Honolulu in 2002. That might have had more to do with the venue than anything else; it was at a hidden club in an office park that is popular for karaoke when live bands aren't playing. I half wonder if some random business men wandered in for karaoke and instead stumbled on to an unimpressed Julian Casablancas singing some songs.

But I digress.

Anyway, I was surrounded by all ages both outside in line and once I settled into my spot in the standing room only club. When I go to the 9:30 Club I always stand in the back by the sound booth. This is the best place to stand because no one is behind me to push me forward and I can lean on the booth (very important when standing for four or more hours). The only "problem" with this spot is late comers always stand right in front of me and then I have to wait until they decide to worm their way forward to get out of my line of vision. To my right were two friends, a boy and a girl, in their early twenties who, as far as I could tell, should be dating but are not because they're very good friends but I could see that the dude is super into the girl. I also learned that they're Green Day fanatics and knew all the words and danced liked no one/everyone was watching. Also, we were all wearing the same shoes (as were most of the people in the audience). On my left, at first it was a couple, around my age who were possibly on a date night away from their children. They did not seem like a couple who would be into Green Day but I then remembered they were in high school in 1994, the last time Green Day played at the 9:30 Club so they are exactly the type of people who would be Green Day fans. A little while later they would be joined by an older gentleman, maybe in his late 50s or early 60s. I'm pretty certain he picked standing next to me as a choice since A. people have a hard time determining how old I am so that B. if he hit one me, it would be with an appropriately younger woman rather than a teenager. This is how rock show logic works.

To the front - a sea of humanity, spanning from a dude my dad's age wearing an Offspring t-shirt to a smattering of children in their early teens to the legion of people in the early to mid-30s who were probably all thinking to themselves "my feet are going to hurt so bad tomorrow and I have to go to work, but fuck it all, I want to rock out at the Green Day show!" There were a surprising number of people I will describe as "business men" (you know what I mean). I have no idea if they were there from work or were in some way connected to the bands. They spent the show looking official and out of place even as they got into songs. It was strange. My favorites where the kids, mostly around 12 or 13, accompanied by their parents who were wearing Green Day shirts from the 90s. One of the kids, the one who made it on stage to sing the last verse of "Longview", looked like a mini Billy Joe Armstrong. He did an epic stage dive and crowd surfed his way back to where his mom was waiting for him (not joking about any of this). Another kid I saw in line could have been Joey Ramone's little brother. There were a couple of kids in the upstairs section who looked in awe of what was going on around them; I'm guessing it was their first concert. It's the multi-generational nature of shows like this that make me a proud rock fan.

I can say, hands down, this is one of the best concerts I've ever been to. Part of it was the venue; the 9:30 Club is small and intimate. I think its capacity is around 1200 for standing shows and the Green Day show sold out in a record five minutes. I was one of those people who logged on at 8:30 in the morning the day the tickets went on sale. When I refreshed at 10 am, I had my ticket in 2 minutes. Apparently, I'm the only one who had that experience (sorry guys who didn't get tickets...but not really). This was my first Green Day show and I don't know if I can ever see them again after this. The opening act, Dog Party, was great. For the Riot Grrl in me, they were the perfect start to the evening. A few minutes before Green Day was set to start, Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" started playing and incited an epic audience singalong for the entirety of the song. If you've never been in a rock club with a thousand of your closest friends singing along to this song, you have not lived. This was followed by The Ramones' "Blitzkrieg Bop" and a person in a bunny suit taunting the audience and getting everyone ready for the big show.

Green Day hit the stage and started with "Know Your Enemy" off of 21st Century Breakdown, and on the musical version of my favorite of their albums (although not my first Green Day album) American Idiot. I've been obsessed with American Idiot since it came out and love the Broadway musical version equally. It was one of those albums that was so timely when it was released and has remained so, especially if you think of where we are now in the current election cycle. I've been in some very enthusiastic crowds at concerts but never anything like this. The energy, both from the band and the audience, was on from the start and never stopped even through a few songs from the new album people weren't as familiar with (because the new album came out four days after this concert). A big part of this is the band; they have the energy of a band half their age and enjoy performing. They're talented and still have that mischievous quality about them that made Green Day famous (and/or makes them sellouts depending on which camp you belong to). The look on the kid's face when Billie Joe Armstrong told him to stage dive was amazing; that kid will never forget that moment. He'll probably start a band if he hasn't already.

I could feel the music. You know when you go to a concert and you can actually feel the music? Like the drums hit you in the sternum and the bass sits in your stomach and the rest of it takes over and your totally immersed in each song? That was what this concert was like. None of it is because the music is loud but it's because you know the songs and the band and the fans. It's because each person is part of the creating the moment of that show. I wrote a scene much like this at the end of novel (the one that is almost done and I hope to soon self-publish). As I leaned back against the booth in a quieter moment (not many of these throughout the evening), I realized how right I got that scene. There is, in that time before a band comes on stage or in the silence between songs, a second where the crowd relaxes, regroups after dancing or moshing around, and then sucks in a collective breath and waits for the next song to burst into the world. When it does, the organized chaos of a rock concert continues and no one can help but get swept up in the moment.

We weren't supposed to take pictures but I snuck one. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not since there were people filming the show who shouldn't have been. Green Day will have to forgive us all.

This is 83

I have several concert goals in life: seeing the remaining living members of Led Zeppelin play together one more (last?) time, not getting boxed out of tickets to The Replacements (sadly, this happened already and no plans for a future tour), sitting as close as possible to the stage for a David Bowie show, and seeing my musical icons, Loretta Lynn, Patti Smith, and Liz Phair in concert (not together although that would be amazing).

Last night I checked another of the goals off the list: seeing Loretta Lynn in concert (I've seen Patti Smith too). Loretta is currently on tour and celebrating her 54th year of performing. She stopped in DC to play a little show at the Lincoln Theater. It was an interesting and odd concert but always enjoyable. Loretta sounds exactly like she always has; strong voice, sassy, and ready to knock you down if you even think about stealing her man. Time has been kind to her voice which is not always true of lifelong performers.

I've always liked Loretta Lynn. I don't know if it was my grandfather's influence (he was a rabid country music fan later in life) or the influence of growing up in the south that brought me to her. Classic country and honky tonk songs are incredibly appealing; there's great storytelling, clear voices, and attitude that I think more modern (and I include most country from the 80s in this category) country music lacks. It's not to stay that there aren't talented country artists today; I just don't listen to them (except the Dixie Chicks). Loretta Lynn's music is a lot of things: funny, feminist (more on this in a few minutes), heartfelt, and above all identifiable. She sang about her life and her love and the things she saw around her. You always knew that Loretta wouldn't take crap from anyone and that she'd fight for what was hers even if it might not always be worth keeping. That's the kind of woman she is.

In 2004, Loretta teamed up with another favorite of mine, Jack White, for Van Lear Rose. She wrote or co-wrote every song on the album. After its release, I spent the better part of a year listening to Van Lear Rose, The White Stripes Elephant, and Green Day's American Idiot in heavy rotation. Sometimes I still listen to these three albums in a row; makes me feel good about life. Van Lear Rose is amazing; beautiful and rock and roll and quintessential Loretta Lynn. Hipster cool kids "discovered" Loretta and were entranced by her stories and her voice. The hipsters occasionally get things right.

I missed her on the last few tours she's done and literally (ask Pumpkin) freaked out when I found out that she was going to be playing at the Lincoln Theater yesterday. I bought two tickets almost immediately after they went on sale. I asked my mom to go with me; who better to see Loretta Lynn with than your mama?

Some highlights from the evening:

• The opening act was The Von Trapps, the great-grandchildren of the Captain and Maria. They are exactly what you would expect the Von Trapp great-grandchildren to be. They did a lovely rendition of "Dream a Little Dream" and a random version of the national anthem of Rwanda, "Rwanda Nziza". Apparently, they were invited to Rwanda and sang this for President Kagame. He enjoyed their rendition so much that he gave August Von Trapp a cow.
• Of course, The Von Trapps ended with "Edelweiss" because Von Trapps.
• Three of Loretta's children, Ernie, Peggy, and Patsy, are part of her band. Ernie plays guitar and all three sing a few songs before their mother comes on. Peggy and Patsy are her youngest, the twins, and Patsy is named for Patsy Cline. All three are talented but I can't help but think that if their mother wasn't Loretta Lynn, they may not have had much of a country career.
• Loretta dresses like the lady she is. This time, a pink number, sparkly and lovely. I can't help but think that it must weigh a ton. 
• My uncle mentioned that she tends to forget the lyrics to songs. I would too if I had released 114 records (#115 is due out this year) with countless hits and I was 83 years old. The only time it was evident was when she sang "Portland Oregon" from Van Lear Rose. She and a member of her band were singing it together and they both forgot the second verse. She did enough of it to make everyone happy and made a little joke about not knowing where Jack was, pausing like he was going to appear to sing with her. 
• She sang three songs that were (and still are to some extent) considered among her most controversial, "Dear Uncle Sam", "The Pill", and "One's On the Way." Loretta had around fourteen songs banned from country radio over the years and they were all one's that dealt with the topics of the day and in several cases, bordered on or were, feminist in theme. "Dear Uncle Sam" is about a woman who opposes the draft during the Vietnam War; "The Pill" is about birth control, and "One's On the Way" is about the struggles of having children for the average or poor woman (she juxtaposes images of Liz Taylor and Jackie Kennedy with a woman in Topeka who has one on the way). Other songs like "Wings Upon Your Horns" (teen girl loses her virginity) and "Rated X" (doubled standard faced by divorced woman), were among others that were banned. I was disappointed that she didn't play "Rated X".
• "You Ain't Woman Enough" was great - this was the first number one song penned by a female country artist (in 1966). She also sang another favorite, "Don't Come Home a Drinkin' (With Lovin' On Your Mind)" was also great to hear. 
• Poor Loretta had the worst time on stage. Apparently, the ragweed in the area hit her hard last night. She spent most of the concert wiping her eyes and nose. We all felt really bad for her. 
• My mom's first Uber experience - I didn't want to drive to U Street and my mom doesn't always do well on Metro so we took Uber. Both of our drivers were excellent and there was no wait. We had a nice conversation with the second driver; she was lovely and drives for Uber in her spare time (she's a realtor).

Loretta ended with "Coal Miner's Daughter" probably one of her best known and one of my favorite songs. It was a fitting end to a great show and a great night out with my mom. If you get a chance to see her on this tour, do it. If not, go ahead and watch Sissy Spacek as Loretta in Coal Miner's Daughter and then watch countless hours of Loretta videos on YouTube. It's a great way to spend an evening.

Van Lear Rose