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.)

At the Stars

In June 2009, I went to my first concert at the 9:30 Club. Given that I went to high school in Northern Virginia, it's probably weird to some that I didn't go to the venue until I turned 30. I didn't go to live shows much back when I was in my teens, and my parents weren't super keen on me going to DC alone or with friends at night (they're still not super keen on that, but I'm an adult lady who can do things). Occasionally, me and my friends would go to the Fairfax Fair and see bands (more on this shortly), but rarely did we go to real rock and roll clubs. It wasn't yet our thing. The band I saw in June 2009? Better Than Ezra, one of my favorite 90s rock band. They're from Louisiana, which makes them extra special to me. When I turned 30, I did a different version of my 40th Year on Earth. Going to the 9:30 Club was one of the things I accomplished that year, along with wearing a skirt or dress every day for a month (during the coldest May on record), wearing lipstick every day for a month (which I still do), and trying flan for the first time (no thank you, but feel free to enjoy it if you're so inclined).

My 40th year on Earth has been going surprisingly well. So far, I've participated in a polar bear plunge (and raised money for Special Olympics VA), rode in my first Mardi Gras parade, sang karaoke for the first time, and baked a cake made famous by Julia Child. That's a lot of good stuff. I accomplished things, including getting over my fear of singing in public. It's been a good start to the year.

And then May happened.

May was supposed to be one of the months where I was going to learn something new that I've always wanted to learn. I was planning to take a metal jewelry course at the Art League. I wrote the registration deadline down wrong and missed registering for the class. I thought about taking a different course, but nothing else interested me. Not one to let something like this derail me, I decided instead to focus on several creative projects that I let sit while working on my Nyx purses. I had a list of five projects I was going to finish in May. I had it all planned out: one weekend per project, with some time during the week as needed. I had everything I needed to create all these wonderful things (mostly for other people). May was going to be a creative time and I was going to bask in my awesomeness. Apparently, I didn't plan as well as I thought I did or I planned too much. You decide.

I finished one project completely (go me!), am about 95% done with another, 80% done with a third, and haven't looked at the other two. Well, that's not entirely true. I looked at them enough to move them from one place to another when I dusted the living room one weekend. The one project I did finish was technically finished in June, but it's adorable so there's that. I left May feeling like I failed. Nothing bad happened because I didn't finish these projects; they just didn't get done. I felt like my Type A self and my creative self where fighting one another, Jets and Sharks style (because I love musicals and choreographed gang fights).  I think I was trying to force myself to be creative. I was trying too hard. Doing something creative everyday is important, but sometimes it just doesn't work.

Which brings us to the month of June and back to Better Than Ezra. When I made my original list of things for this year, I left June pretty open. I believe I described it as "experience my 40th Birthday Extravaganza" or something similar. Doing this left the month open for pretty much anything, so I decided to think of June as the month to start it all over again. My plan is simple this month: do fun things that make me happy. They don't need to be extravagant or cost anything, just be enjoyable and fun. My hope is that by slowing down and doing fun things, I'll get back into my creative space. I'll finish my remaining projects and get ready to make my purses for Nyx 2020.

What I didn't expect was to be inspired so quickly by a seemingly routine activity: going to a summer concert. This past Friday, I went to see Better Than Ezra at the Fairfax Fair. Yes, I know it's now called Celebrate Fairfax, but I went back in the day when it was still the Fairfax Fair, so it will forever be referred to as such by me. Better Than Ezra opened the festivities this year, ten years after I saw them at the 9:30 Club (I believe that show was on the 15th or 16th, but close enough). The show was a blast. They're a fun band, and the whole show made me nostalgic for a time in my life where I enjoyed driving around listening to music with the windows down and no destination in mind. At one point the band paid tribute to Dr. John, who died last week, and an idea hit me. In the space of a song and half, I figured out all of my Nyx purses for the upcoming year. An idea got into my brain, and it's genius and fun and very New Orleans. It'll be challenging in a good way. They didn't play my favorite song ("At The Stars"), but Better Than Ezra helped me figure out a very exciting creative project. I'll share more about it in a future post I promise. It's good.

So thanks, Better Than Ezra and the Fairfax Fair. I'll get my other projects done so I can jump into my purses and realize my vision. It's always good when I have a vision.

Next week: Can you believe it's been a year since I adopted Keely?! We'll celebrate a year of living with this very strange creature. 

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. 

Song of the Summer

One of the best things I did for myself during the 2016 election, other than work for a candidate who didn't sell us out to Russia, was to start following a bot account on Twitter called "africa by toto bot." It's exactly what it sounds like: the bot tweets one lyric at a time from the 1982 song "Africa" by the band Toto. I don't know if it's the context of seeing a tweet from this account come up in between tweets from the many politicians, journalists, and activists I follow, or if it's the fact that I love this song, but every tweet makes my day a little brighter and funnier. Sometimes, bot accounts are pure and lovely and not responsible for subverting democracy.

"Africa" was the first and only number one hit for the band Toto. It's a fairly straightforward pop love song, with lots of 80s-tastic synthesizers and a drum beat that I'm sure the band or some producer thought was very "African" sounding, but isn't really. The original video, which you can watch here, includes a very thin plot, which I believe takes place in a library in an unnamed African country (probably Tanzania, given the two geographical references in the song), also includes a lot of closed eye singing, some masks, one of the drummers wearing a blouse, and a search for a book. It ends with a fire and the lead singer sitting on top of a stack of books in a very Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park (the first one) pose, but in a completely unappealing way.

From what I've read about the song, which is a surprising amount, David Paich wrote the song about the continent of Africa. He watched a lot of documentaries about Africa in the period leading up to writing the song, but had never visited and had gone to Catholic school as a child, remembering missionaries going to Africa. So the song is about love of a place and of memory. I can totally get behind this idea. The song was on the album Toto IV. That album and the song "Rosanna" from the album both won Grammys in 1983.

I have loved this song since I first heard it when I was a child. It falls into that category of songs that were on the radio a lot that I will never stop loving. Other songs included in this category are "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)", "More Than a Feeling", and "Low Rider." It's poppy and peppy. There's a marimba! One of my absolute favorite things about this song is the use of "Kilimanjaro" and "Serengeti" in the lyrics. Both words have a lot of syllables and limited rhyming words. I've always been impressed by the band's ability to make the words work in the song. The inclusion of both is the only geographic clue we get in the song; Mt. Kilimanjaro is in Tanzania and the Serengeti National Park is primarily in Tanzania (some of it is in Kenya). As a kid, it was a fun fact to look up. As an adult, it's a funny thing in a random pop song from 1982.

What's fascinating to me is that a little cover of this song by a 90s alt band has become a song of the summer. Not an official song of the summer, but one in my mind. If you haven't listened to Weezer's cover of "Africa," take a few minutes and watch their performance on Jimmy Kimmel's summer concert series. One of the members of Toto even makes an appearance.

The whole thing started with a 14 year old girl named Mary. She started a Twitter account directed at the band and used it to try to convince them to do a cover of the song. Weezer does a far amount of covers, so it's not unusual for them to add a new song or two into the mix. They teased fans with a cover of "Rosanna" first, eventually releasing "Africa" in May. Of course, the Internet was designed for this event. The song is playing in heavy rotation on the radio. NPR wrote a story about the song and people's uncomfortable relationship with Weezer and with the song. My favorite line in this story, "Weezer, the Los Angeles-based quartet that emerged in the 1990s with bemusingly catchy hits like "Buddy Holly," is one of a handful of pop-punk bands that, like Wooderson in the movie Dazed and Confused, keep getting older while a good chunk of their fan base stays the same age — 14."

I was 13 or 14 when I heard my firs Weezer song. It was "Buddy Holly" and I remember the seeing the video for the first time on MTV. I was obsessed with the chorus:

Woo-ee-ooh, I look just like Buddy Holly
Oh-oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore
I don't care what they say about us anyway
I don't care 'bout that 

Yes, I am so very Mary Tyler Moore. Thank you, Rivers Cuomo for getting it. The Blue Album, which included "Buddy Holly," will always be my favorite Weezer album. "In the garage" and "Say it ain't so," also on that album, are two of my favorite Weezer songs. I lived in Hawaii when "Island in the Sun" was released and loved driving around Oahu with my windows down, blasting the song. I like to listen to "Everybody Get Dangerous" in the middle of a workout. I'm not a huge fan of their newest album, but that's okay. Rivers Cuomo isn't always my favorite person, but again, that's okay. 

 I've never seen Weezer live, but that has now been remedied. Weezer is on tour this summer and I went to the show last night. They happen to be touring with the Pixies, one of my favorite bands of all time. It's been almost ten years since I last saw the Pixies, so I was excited about this concert. Unlike my experience at the Indigo Girls concert, I entered this concert experience with expectations:

• Enjoy Paz Lenchantin as the bassist for the Pixies. Yes, I grew up on the band with Kim Deal, but Paz is an amazing bassist.
• Songs I need the Pixies to play: "Gigantic", "Hey", "Wave of Mutilation" (hopefully the slower version), "Indy Cindy", "Here Comes Your Man", "Planet of Sound", "Letter to Memphis", and "Velouria." 
• Songs I need Weezer to play: "Buddy Holly", "In the garage", "Island in the Sun", "Say it ain't so", "Hash Pipe", "Everybody Get Dangerous," and "Holiday." (I'm a Blue Album fan if that wasn't obvious.)
• "Africa" must be played. 

I was not disappointed. Although the Pixies didn't play all the songs I wanted to hear, most surprisingly no "Here Comes Your Man," they played a great set that included a good mix of newer songs and classics. Paz is a great addition to the band; I'll always be a Kim Deal fan, but she made her choice and the band continues on. 

Weezer puts on a great show. Yes, their fans stay the same age, on many different levels, but who cares? It's a great rock show. They didn't play all the songs I wanted to hear, but they played songs I didn't know I needed, like an acoustic version of a-ha's "Take on Me" and a mash-up of the Turtles' "Happy Together" and Green Day's "Longview". Who knew that would work? The best moment of the night was Rivers Cuomo in a boat in the middle of the audience doing a great acoustic version of "Island in the Sun" and looking super ridiculous in a captain's hat. This the kind of show that reminds me that rock and roll doesn't always have to be so serious or take itself so seriously. Sometimes, it's a dude in a hat in a boat singing an a-ha song and sometimes it's a band singing an almost note for note version of a classic 80s pop song because a fan asked them to do so.

And yes, they played "Africa." It was as glorious live as I thought it would be. I'm trying not to take photos of concerts anymore and my video didn't come out great so enjoy this guy's video from last night. The sing-a-long moment is on my list of favorite concert moments. Tell me Brian Bell doesn't look like one of the members of Toto during this song. It's the tucked in shirt.

Just in case Weezer's cover isn't your thing, enjoy this version of "Africa" created in Mario Paint (apparently Mario Paint videos were a thing in 2010.).

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