Welcome back to the occasional blog. To avoid starting all of these letters with throat-clearing about why I don’t write every day: Most days, while in perfectly good spirits, I’m finding it more rewarding to read one of the books I need to get rid of (300 of them, let’s say) than to write anything for fun.
This weekend, that meant ripping through J.G. Ballard’s “Crash” (cars 'n’ semen), Bob Dylan’s “Chronicles” (boomers will read anything), Jonathan Allen and Amie Parnes’s “Lucky” (read about it in the Post newsletter) and Barry Miles’s “Zappa.” The last book had the least buzz, and it didn’t really deserve any: Miles cut some corners, and lays out Zappa’s life in a drier way than he lived it.
The upside: I discovered “Roxy & Elsewhere,” instantly one of the best live albums I’ve ever heard. Another upside: I thought to write one of those annoying Twitter questions, asking readers about a bad concert, one where the artist or band was there to get paid, and for no other reason.
It’s a fun thread, but I limited myself to one example, a 2018 Roky Erickson show at The Black Cat in D.C. I’d been surprised to learn that Erickson, whose mental illness ended his career young but returned to play shows in Texas, was on tour at all. Ninety minutes later, I wondered if he would ever remember being there: Erickson sat lifelessly with a guitar, often not playing it, howling his lyrics as a band covered his songs.
There’d been other bad shows.
They Might Be Giants (930 Club, 2004) Honestly, a good show on its own, but I’d never seen a ban so mis-matched with an opener. Tell me if you know who this was: A singer-songwriter with a guitar, nothing else, and a song that had to be called “Dancing” because he said it twice as much as any other word.
New York Dolls (930 Club, 2009) Not their fault, but nobody showed up, so me and 12 friends had a private gig with a deeply tired David Johansen.
GZA (Howard Theater, 2017) Caught him on a bad night, with maybe 100 people in a venue that could stand twenty times that many. “There a fuckin’ game tonight or something?” he asked. He could hardly stand being there and brought his entourage onstage to hang out. Called ex, begged her to make the five-block walk to the venue because I felt sad for him.
Rick Ross (Echostage, 2017) Technically, I didn’t really see him. Me and the ex, same as before, got Panda Gourmet next door, headed over an hour after doors, and waited through 14 or 15 piece-of-shit openers until it was 1 a.m. and Ross hadn’t shown. On the one hand, I realized how lame it was for a 36-year old white guy to whine that the rapper was late; on the other, I was 36, and white, and lame, and we had a bed to crawl into.
Brian Wilson (Lincoln, 2017) Jesus, what went wrong for me that year? Wilson’s issue was the same as Roky’s: He peaked many years ago, he’s been through hell mentally, and that’s not compatible with a good show. Most of his range is gone, so a Jardine scion who is definitely not Brian Wilson takes his vocals on “God Only Knows.” During a dramatic moment in the show, a solo performance of “Love and Mercy,” Wilson repeatedly muffs his lyrics, and it becomes clear he’s been doing that all night. The rock and roll generation never expected playing for this long, and surely Brian Wilson didn’t think he’d be singing about summer crushes into his 70s. Is it good when a concert makes you think for days about mortality?
Black Star (The Anthem, 2018) They could not give a shit, and everyone around me seemed to have been there when they did give a shit, loudly discussing what must have happened to sap their life force.
Bad shows I've seen, 1998-2019
Two episodes for me:
The Sounds (Double Door, Chicago 2009). This was an example of when a band had played a venue on the way up, spent far less time at the top than they intended, and then played the venue on the way down much sooner than they'd have liked. They hated us for not being in an arena
Fastball (The Empty Bottle, Chicago 2010). Yes, "the" Fastball. Played to a crowd of maybe 6 or 7 on a Sunday night. "Don't call us one hit wonders, because we had two hits." One of the players ex-woves came and screamed over a goodly number of the songs (but thankfully not either of the hits)
Looks like this was the show. Opening act was Peter Salett.
http://tmbw.net/wiki/Shows/2003-12-30