sweetness follows
I unexpectedly got a ticket to last night's R.E.M. concert at Madison Square Garden. It was very fortunate for me as I adore the band and our seats were dead center about one short level above the floor. Unfortunately, the reason I received the last-minute ticket was because my younger sister was stuck home with a nasty stomach bug. Not fun. So while she was being a hurly girly, as she and I like to say, I was in the presence of my favorite boys from Athens. It was bittersweet.
I had a pretty good view of Michael Stipe flailing about the stage and he looked adorable in a white suit that hugged his wiry frame. However, I find his recent preference for airbrushing blue shit around his eyes and ears a bit disturbing. He's been rocking this look for the past year and I no likey. He looks like Daryl Hannah in Blade Runner except without the unitard and gymnastic-like ass-kicking of one Harrison Ford. Tres creepy. But I do love me some Michael -- sunken cheeks, bald bony head, acne scars and all.
Peter Buck was in fine form with the guitar and was dressed suitably for a man of his age and experience. As long as he's not drunk and on the same flight as me, I have no beef with Peter.
Sadly, Mike Mills is still woefully misguided in his notion of what he thinks a rock star looks like. Dude, the goofy sequined jacket and the curly wedge hairdo have got to go. I just want to have a sit-down with that man and tell him to embrace the fact that he was and always will be a band fag. It's okay, Mike, sweetie, it's okay. You're no longer beholden to the polyester onesie with the braided trim. Cut the hair, get yourself a nice button-down shirt, loose-fitting jeans and a pair of black Oxfords and all will be right again. You have the potential to have decent hair. I mean, save for the middle part and ever-so-slight feathering, your hair wasn't that bad during the Out of Time era. Relatively speaking, of course.
The show opened with the old chestnuts "It's the End of the World As We Know It" and "Begin the Begin." I thought we were in for a stroll down memory lane but then the set list ended up relying on way too many new songs. Anytime the show gained momentum, the band totally killed it by trotting out stuff from the latest album, which judging by the tepid audience response, no one has or wants. I wish the band took heed that the place came to life during "Welcome to the Occupation," "Get Up," "Life and How to Live It," et al and adjusted their playlist accordingly. Fat chance, I know. The energy rose exponentially and then came crashing down when they launched into something unfamiliar. It was a complete buzz kill.
In fairness, the mood in the Garden was rather subdued because of the election outcome. Face it -- the band and all (or most) who love them share the same political vision. We were all miserable and depressed. Today's Daily News blamed the band's lackluster performance on their age. I think it had more to do with the fact that they spent the past few months vigorously touring and campaigning in support of regime change. I'm willing to cut them some slack if they're a wee bit exhausted and disappointed after the election results. God knows I know am. My ass has been dragging all week.
I enjoy going to concerts but if there is one thing that always kills the experience for me it's that cranky person who wants nothing more than to sit on his/her duff throughout the show. If you want to remain seated, that's your choice. However, I cannot tolerate when a person starts getting all pissy and yelling at people who want to stand. Sit at home and listen to the fucking CD then! There were people to my left who jumped up when "The One I Love" came on and this nasty old bitch behind them started yelling and poking them in the back because her majesty couldn't see. She got no support in our section though. In fact, she was shown the middle finger and more people (including me) stood up just to piss her off. I heart solidarity, rally I do. We felt no camaraderie with her so we banded together and wiggled our asses right in her face. Besides, she probably won her tickets on the radio anyway.
I had a pretty good view of Michael Stipe flailing about the stage and he looked adorable in a white suit that hugged his wiry frame. However, I find his recent preference for airbrushing blue shit around his eyes and ears a bit disturbing. He's been rocking this look for the past year and I no likey. He looks like Daryl Hannah in Blade Runner except without the unitard and gymnastic-like ass-kicking of one Harrison Ford. Tres creepy. But I do love me some Michael -- sunken cheeks, bald bony head, acne scars and all.
Peter Buck was in fine form with the guitar and was dressed suitably for a man of his age and experience. As long as he's not drunk and on the same flight as me, I have no beef with Peter.
Sadly, Mike Mills is still woefully misguided in his notion of what he thinks a rock star looks like. Dude, the goofy sequined jacket and the curly wedge hairdo have got to go. I just want to have a sit-down with that man and tell him to embrace the fact that he was and always will be a band fag. It's okay, Mike, sweetie, it's okay. You're no longer beholden to the polyester onesie with the braided trim. Cut the hair, get yourself a nice button-down shirt, loose-fitting jeans and a pair of black Oxfords and all will be right again. You have the potential to have decent hair. I mean, save for the middle part and ever-so-slight feathering, your hair wasn't that bad during the Out of Time era. Relatively speaking, of course.
The show opened with the old chestnuts "It's the End of the World As We Know It" and "Begin the Begin." I thought we were in for a stroll down memory lane but then the set list ended up relying on way too many new songs. Anytime the show gained momentum, the band totally killed it by trotting out stuff from the latest album, which judging by the tepid audience response, no one has or wants. I wish the band took heed that the place came to life during "Welcome to the Occupation," "Get Up," "Life and How to Live It," et al and adjusted their playlist accordingly. Fat chance, I know. The energy rose exponentially and then came crashing down when they launched into something unfamiliar. It was a complete buzz kill.
In fairness, the mood in the Garden was rather subdued because of the election outcome. Face it -- the band and all (or most) who love them share the same political vision. We were all miserable and depressed. Today's Daily News blamed the band's lackluster performance on their age. I think it had more to do with the fact that they spent the past few months vigorously touring and campaigning in support of regime change. I'm willing to cut them some slack if they're a wee bit exhausted and disappointed after the election results. God knows I know am. My ass has been dragging all week.
I enjoy going to concerts but if there is one thing that always kills the experience for me it's that cranky person who wants nothing more than to sit on his/her duff throughout the show. If you want to remain seated, that's your choice. However, I cannot tolerate when a person starts getting all pissy and yelling at people who want to stand. Sit at home and listen to the fucking CD then! There were people to my left who jumped up when "The One I Love" came on and this nasty old bitch behind them started yelling and poking them in the back because her majesty couldn't see. She got no support in our section though. In fact, she was shown the middle finger and more people (including me) stood up just to piss her off. I heart solidarity, rally I do. We felt no camaraderie with her so we banded together and wiggled our asses right in her face. Besides, she probably won her tickets on the radio anyway.
posted by curly mcdimple @ 1:25 PM :: permalink :: ::
