I'm setting out to compile one of the harder lists. Not the best shows I've ever seen, no, that is not something I think I will ever be able to do. This is, instead, intended to be a highlights reel, of sorts. Singular moments, rather than entire evenings. Hopefully I can convince a few folks that some nights are worth spending 80$ on. Seeing a band, a group of people, work their ass off to play for you, is truly a night well spent
Time for me to escape from the vanilla rambling of the preamble, and buckle down and make this thing. Oh this is gonna' be tough...
#1
The Show
The Moment
"There is no pain, you are receding..." I remember the EXACT moment I became a Pink Floyd fan. Little 'ol 13-14 year old Jack was sitting on a train, by himself, bound away to North Carolina to visit my first "girlfriend". My parents had made me a mix CD for the trip, 'cause they are the coolest. Burrowed in between classic cuts from The Band, Elvis Costello, and Joe Jackson was a song by the name of "Us and Them", from Floyd's immortal "Dark Side of the Moon". I remember being spellbound by the crashing waves of sound that threatened to engulf me, the train I was on, and the whole world as far as I knew.
Fast forward to my 22nd birthday, my Father called me over with a sly grin and presented me and my brother with tickets to see the Roger Waters, the genius behind the music of a generation, perform The Wall, in it's entirety.
The show was incredible, the greatest production value I've ever seen on display, period. Nosebleed seats though they were, the sound quality was superb, and I was having the time of my life.
"A distant ships' smoke on the horizon" But when it came time for Comfortably Numb, the full gravity of it all really hit me. A song about dulling the pain of a weary life, the room became smaller, and bigger at the same time. The guitar rang out clearer and sharper than any instrument I've heard before, David Gilmours' solo cutting through the massive arena like a knife, extenuating the enormity in scope of the song, the moment, the show itself, while in the same, slow breath, reducing the scene to a tiny, empty, 1 room apartment. I could feel the tourniquet around my arm and I could hear the sharp gasp escape, right before the world is made hazy and warm.
It's the only time in my life that live music has moved me to tears, and I don't think that high mark will ever be touched again.
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#2
The Show
The Moment
"All alone, by myself, where were you?" Nine Inch Nails, to me, has for as long as I can remember, been so much more than just a band. They've been with me through adolescence, and in to adulthood, always helping me navigate the narrow corridors and open fields of the human condition. Trent Reznor and his music has been a totem for me, a means to channel whatever was going on at the time into something I could grab on to and interact with.
After missed opportunity after missed opportunity, hiatus, nearly dying, another hiatus, an Oscar, and claims of retirement, Trent surprised the musical world "Hesitation Marks". The tour announced alongside it was truly massive, and I without a second thought I bought up tickets for myself and all those closest to me.
The day of the show was a spectacular success, we met a new friend, saw the monuments, and laughed and joked in DC, on a beautiful afternoon. When showtime rolled around we situated ourselves near the rail and were treated to a terrifying display of musical aptitude from Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Nine Inch Nails took the stage and without hesitation, launched into one of the most cacophonous sets I've ever had the pleasure to witness. Every song was met with massive approval from the swelling, tumbling, writhing mass of fans.
"So impressed with all you do..." After the first encore, the stage was awash in fog. I will never forget the smell, the feeling of foreboding and electric excitement, every nerve in my body on fire as I, along with 13 thousand others, waited for the return of our champion. The band took the stage to the comforting, sedative melodies of "A Warm Place", an instrumental track from the dark, grueling album, The Downward Spiral. Little did I know, this song was merely a decoy, used to lure us into a trap, and the jaws began to close. I recognized the wicked guitar strokes, snaking through the fog and darkness immediately as the first track on The Fragile, my #5 or so favorite album of all time. The punishing, unforgiving, "Somewhat Damaged".
The song I had used countless times to release the energy I had no way of releasing otherwise, the song I first heard when I was 16 and thought, "this man has been through something". I've screamed myself hoarse and pounded my steering wheel 'til my hands bruised to this song. I've lived to this song. The next 3 minutes were a blur as I exploded with pent up energy alongside my fellow travelers.
The closing minute of the track was a stomping, brutal, screaming whirlwind. The final lyrics, echoing around the arena, "Like you said, you and me, 'We'll make it through'. Didn't quite. Fell apart. Where the fuck were you?" Even now I feel drained thinking about it. The ultimate catharsis, the message of emotional deliverance, dispatched in passionate fury from the man who taught me that it's OK to be a little damaged.
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#3
The Show
The Moment
"Open your mouth wide..." To say that Radiohead is my favorite band wouldn't be far from the truth, no matter how much I try to shy away from absolutes in music. I began paying attention in 09', after the release of the masterpiece album, "In Rainbows". The group released the follow up album, "The King of Limbs", as almost an afterthought. A surprise March drop that was announced nowhere previously and had very little hype behind it. It was instantly devoured by hungry fans and the record became one of the sleeper hits of the bands career, with B-Sides being released as an addendum to the brief album coming months later. Live performances breathed new life into the tight tracks and let them flourish and grow, and the more we heard of the 8 songs, the more they bloomed.
The day the tickets went on sale was the most excited I had ever been while trying to spend hundreds of dollars. In alternating shifts, my sister and I spent 9 hours capturing the elusive GA seats. A warm day in June was the stage set for our final wait in DC before the lads from England took the stage.
"And while the ocean blooms, It's what keeps me alive" The minutes leading up to the start of the set were the longest minutes of my life. The kinetic energy in the arena was palpable, the whole room was electric. When they came out, I couldn't really take it all in, I had seen the group before, but from awful seats. To see Thom, music incarnate, 15 feet from me, I was reduced to a grinning, giddy mess. They opened the show with the track that opens the newest record. A gorgeous, swelling song appropriately titled, "Bloom". This was the song I was listening to when I first managed to snag the tickets, I remember the feeling of relief and joy, and I just let it wash over me. A song that makes you feel like you're weaving through tall grass, at the mercy of nature. A song that makes you feel small in a big world. Halfway through the song, Thoms' falsetto soars in a triumphant yell along with the rest of the band, taking flight to hover high above the earth. It rips you from the comfortable solitude of a grassy forest through the water and over the ocean. During that short, 15 seconds I was the happiest person on the face of the planet.
The rest of the show was an emotional road trip, the band drew you in effortlessly, and it was impossible to tear away. They played all the songs I wanted to hear, and it wears the crown as my favorite concert I've ever been to. Few groups can really make you feel like you're flying, and Yorke and company have been doing it for 20 years, with the horizon in front and no landing in sight.
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The day the tickets went on sale was the most excited I had ever been while trying to spend hundreds of dollars. In alternating shifts, my sister and I spent 9 hours capturing the elusive GA seats. A warm day in June was the stage set for our final wait in DC before the lads from England took the stage.
"And while the ocean blooms, It's what keeps me alive" The minutes leading up to the start of the set were the longest minutes of my life. The kinetic energy in the arena was palpable, the whole room was electric. When they came out, I couldn't really take it all in, I had seen the group before, but from awful seats. To see Thom, music incarnate, 15 feet from me, I was reduced to a grinning, giddy mess. They opened the show with the track that opens the newest record. A gorgeous, swelling song appropriately titled, "Bloom". This was the song I was listening to when I first managed to snag the tickets, I remember the feeling of relief and joy, and I just let it wash over me. A song that makes you feel like you're weaving through tall grass, at the mercy of nature. A song that makes you feel small in a big world. Halfway through the song, Thoms' falsetto soars in a triumphant yell along with the rest of the band, taking flight to hover high above the earth. It rips you from the comfortable solitude of a grassy forest through the water and over the ocean. During that short, 15 seconds I was the happiest person on the face of the planet.
The rest of the show was an emotional road trip, the band drew you in effortlessly, and it was impossible to tear away. They played all the songs I wanted to hear, and it wears the crown as my favorite concert I've ever been to. Few groups can really make you feel like you're flying, and Yorke and company have been doing it for 20 years, with the horizon in front and no landing in sight.
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#4
The Show
The Moment
"Well it's one, two, three, four take the elevator..." Jack White is almost as responsible for my taste in music as my parents were. I remember clearly the first time I heard "Seven Nation Army" announce it's calamitous approach. I remember thinking, "This is it, this is what rock music should sound like". It was the first song Travis ever learned on guitar, I remember Josh complaining about how he wouldn't stop playing it. My life partner and I have a mutual love for blues rock, and in our eyes, Jack sits firmly on the throne as it's king. So naturally when we saw he was headlining the first night at the inaugural Firefly Music Festival, we grabbed tickets immediately.
There were many memories made on that trip. Travis and I were two souls on a mission to northern Delaware, to see the idol who reared us musically. The man who made it cool to play the Blues again. Standing a few rows away from the front, we waited anxiously, through John Legends' set and the hour afterwards of waiting for White. His band announced his presence before he did, a hand picked cast of musical anarchists. The manic, thunderous beats from the drummer increased to a head, and out strode the man himself. Tall, swagger in his step, he approached his guitar and started peeling out absolutely furious licks as he thrashed around stage and wordlessly commanded each musician to step in line.
"'Cause if I'm the man that you love the most, you could say 'I do' at least!" After a euphoric first few songs, Jack cast aside his electric guitar and picked up an old, wooden and steel acoustic. He asked us to sing along if we knew the words, and strummed out the playful first notes to The White Stripes classic, Hotel Yorba. A favorite of mine and Travis', we were absolutely elated, singing along to every note as Jack dutifully strummed along. Halfway through the song, it broke, and Jack beckoned with his hands for us to take over for him. As the we finished the verse for him, we looked at each other and screamed out the lyric, both our faces absolutely beaming.
I'll never forget that moment I shared with my best friend of 20 years. A midst the dirt and the sweat and the noise we bonded, for the untold millionth time, over a mutual love for music that has helped keep us together this long. Thanks for that, Jack. See you next week.
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#5
The Show
The Moment
"Do you like Rock n' Roll music, 'cause I don't know if I do" My life has been fairly extraordinary, given' that I'm a fairly simple guy. I like music, friends, and I go to shows for the memories I will have forever of the combination of the two.
I'll get right to it. At Arcade Fire's show in Washington DC, me and some of the best people in my life were asked to come on stage with the band as part of the shows' revelatory closing act. Initially skeptical, credit goes to Travis, of course, for throwing caution to the wind and convincing us to go along with the mysterious stage manager who approached us. We had our instructions and were escorted back stage to watch the show and wait for our moment. My heart was absolutely racing the entire time, and I honestly thought I was going to pass out in the catacombs of the Verizon Center. The Canadian group is, bar none, one of the finest touring bands of our generation. The show was a celebration of life, an event for the ages, with the band ripping through their discography filled with unbound energy and joy.
"I've never really ever been a normal person" When the time came, we were brought on stage with the band, wearing giant, paper mache heads in the groups likeness. In front of 19 thousand people, we danced, sung and took in the energy of the crowd. Through small holes I breathed it all in, I felt like a piece in the greatest puzzle ever put together. Directly in front of me was the incomparable Regine Chassagne, singing and playing the steel drum. To my left was Win Butler, makeup clad front man for these titans of music. The song was Normal Person, a searing, righteous track from the bands newest effort, Reflektor. In synchronization with the band and the crowd, we pumped our fists in time with the tracks iron clad statement against the mundane. A refusal to go quietly into the night, back to our jobs, our bills, our lives outside of this cathedral of youthful bliss. It felt like a dream, looking through those masks on the faces of thousands who would have given anything to be where we were. After we left the stage, we joined the crowd for Wake Up, the cathartic anthem that helped put the band on the map. Singing at the top of our lungs we bade the band farewell, and we departed.
The next day I could hardly come to grips with reality, that I had really just done and seen all that my brain said I did. For the rest of my life I will remember that night, with the music and the people I love. That song will be special and dear to me now, a reminder to never let myself become lumped in with the rest of the worlds dreariness. The very reason we were picked is because of the energy we gave off and the unwillingness to fall in to line. As long as I live I will strive never to be the Normal Person, and instead, exude as much life and energy and excitement as I did at that concert, on that stage.
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Thanks for reading.
-Jack
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