So last night I hit town again for a concert ( a part of On The Bricks series) of Blues Traveler. It had rained heavily all of the afternoon and I wasn’t sure if it would stop but then it did stop right on dot. So off I marched the 1.5 miles to the Olympic Park, paid up my $3 (they started charging admission this year, but it’s still an ok amount for a poor mouse like le moi), and got in to soak myself in an aural energy field.

There was a band playing when I got there, three down from the headliners. They played ok music even though their sound wasn’t real tight and shit. There was only a sparse crowd around this time, 7.30 pm-ish. Then as they were changing the stuff up on stage for the next band, I wandered around in the park as it had been some time since I had last been there. As parks go, it’s not really my idea of a park, so it’s more of a memorial for the Olympics that happened in this city back in 1996.

Again as usual I was perhaps among the handful of people in the park who were Lone Rangers. And I thought about that some. I had been to a few concerts with random folks I had managed to round up. In the first instance they found the music to be too loud, read not too “pop”/Britney Spear-ish/romantic ballad-ish for them. In another instance, folks had more fun watching people make out and behave as they usually do in large teenage hormone filled crowds. While I must admit this is an ok way to pass time in between music, when music starts playing, you better start digging it man or you are wasting ya life! And incase of a real large group, folks sat down in a group somewhere in the lawn, in a circle, as if they were there for some kind of a lawn picnic and then I had to detach myself from them anyway to jump into the aural well. So in conclusion, I have come to the undeniable fact that the best way to tackle concerts is the Lone Ranger way. I might reconsider this if I, by random chance, fall in with some idiot, in K’s words, “Who feels music is not a set of pretty notes, but as a wonderful state of mind”.

Yup before we go on to the music again, my demographic observations are as follows:

< 10 1% 10-12 5% 12-14 25% 14-16 40% 16-18 10% 18-22 15%

22 4%

So I must say that I felt very distinguished and grey at the temples.

Then the music started up again. It was a band/guy called Will Hoge. He said he was from Tennessee. He drawled a bit as he was singing which confirmed it. He had good energy, jumped around a bit, interacted with the crowd a little more. Music wise I wouldn’t say he was remarkable, mainly because his music sounded like most of the music on what they call New Rock Radio. Themes: Folks screwing around, screwing each other up, screwing one self. Very uplifting and very generic. The problem with such songs is that they don’t have a geographical context, they don’t have roots. And music (or art) without roots, usually, is not well nourished and lacks a distinctive flavor.

He also had this habit of playing other songs, example “Georgia on my mind”, Ennimem‘s stuff etc as intro to his own songs, an interesting trick to sorta catch the attention of the indifferent concert-goer. He finally redeemed himself by playing an acoustic song for his baby girl. It was nice because the sun was going setting in the rain washed sky and turning all the wispy clouds traveling in the evening as into wine drifting over blue waters. The lights of the Downtown skyscrapers also started coming and the set was over.

Again a break of 20-25 minutes. And I had to go, you know, so I went. Then debated if I should spend about $5 on getting me a small coke but then I spied a water fountain, so off I went and drank some of God’s own liquid. I lay down on the platform near the end fountain and watched the evening sky: the sun going down further, clouds floating over the tops of the towers and as they do, smoky lighted plumes trailing off the tower tops. And all this, as always much more beautiful than the people on the field who were trying too hard, via the latest name brand clothes and styles, to arrive at.

Then the music started up again. This time it was the turn to Drive By Truckers, made up for five good ol Southern boys. And they played some excellent music with a solid guitar section. Even though they didn’t look much like rock stars, and I could see that the tweety birds on the field didn’t think they are too hot because of this, they made some beautiful beautiful music, to which one can close one’s eyes and get carried away in the guitar waves. I thought they being compared to Lynayrd Skynard, the quintessential southern rock band, is richly well deserved. I highly recommend their show to anyone.

All this time I began in row 3 or 4 from the stage and slowly moved up to row 2. There were some high school kids, a boy and girl, in front of me against the railing. They began making out, kissing etc, towards the last quarter of the Truckers set. And after the set was over, as we were waiting for Blues Traveler to come on stage, it proceeded into semi fore play stage. I guess they were too turned on to stay, so they left. Which was good because I got to take their place right against the railing. Nothing between me and the music. Yes!

And then we waited and waited, I was perhaps the only non-“pale face” in the front row. Maybe it’s my own perception, but I suspect these suburban high school kids must be wondering, what this old fogey is doing at the front row. Usually people don’t like front rows because it gets loud there. But since my purpose is to feel my body vibrate to the music I like front rows. And more importantly since the most hardcore fans of any band gather right there, it’s hard not to feel their passion rub off on oneself.

Then Blues Traveler came on stage with John Popper playing one of his long long riffs on the harmonica. As one of very good friends remarked the other days, he is a large man who plays a very small instrument. Usually one doesn’t think that a harmonica can be used in the same way as say as a guitar. Well Popper is the man who can and does disabuse anyone of that notion of dismissing it too lightly. I saw BT last year at the same festival and they were even better this year. Solid musicians they are whose passion for music comes across in what they do. And of course all the hardcore “homies” at the front were digging da man.

A few things that happened were, I was lost in that music, I was leaning into the music, as if I were riding into a headwind, a loss of presence of time, an absorption into those tunes which at once is also a release. My hamstring which was giving me trouble stopped giving me trouble. Bob Marley was right, with music there can be no more pain. Then next time I was woken from this spell was when a hardcore fan next to me was invited backstage, 2 songs from the end. And his place was taken by a girl, perhaps 13 or 14 years old. I could see right away that she would be trouble.

And she proved me right by throwing herself at me and urging me to dance which for her translated into doing the grind. I wanted none of that. So I tried to laugh her off. And when that didn’t work, I closed my eyes to her. All I wanted to do and feel was music. But she was a persistent kid, running her fingers over my legs, rubbing her body once in a while to my side, touching my face, trying to provoke me. I was perhaps more sad than angry, for one somehow acting in a sexual manner with complete strangers is not my style and then because she was just a young girl who could possibly get badly hurt because of her actions. But I didn’t know how to tell her that, tell her to watch out. I turned away and started doing my own thing as I was doing all evening. The next time I came out of the trance, I saw that she was doing the grind with some other guy who was grabbing her. And an older man was leering at her still undeveloped body, with which she was trying to be provocative with. I don’t know what is that we miss most of all in our lives, perhaps our inability to give love blocked by our incapacity to accept love. She had touched my face and I should say that I did miss that feeling of being touched.

All these thoughts I had later because at that point music was still more powerful that all that ancillary stuff. And it was over. BT came out and played a long encore and then left. I walked back home, strode down more exactly, after midnight and immediately fell asleep.

So that is my music update. Oh I am going back next Friday to take on Soul Asylum and I hope they play “Runaway Train”.

Peace Out!