Monday, November 29, 2004
Ticket For One - Part II
Oh, I'm so irritated. The blogger update somehow ate my Ticket For One - Part I entry! Maybe I'll rewrite it ... or not.
Being single gives a lot of freedom. I can do what I like when I like, and one of those things was driving two weeks ago to Akron, to see one of my all-time favorite bands, The Pixies.
When I first heard the Pixies were doing a tour after elevensome years, it seemed to be already too late to buy a ticket: their concert dates were selling out within minutes. But after a few weeks and on a whim I clicked on a ticket purchase site -- and ooh! One was available!
It was true; once I found my nose-bleed seat, if the venue wasn't sold out, it was nearly sold out. In my section, the only empties were the seats to either side of me (which was fine by me!). And the second I heard the first guitar and drum riff, I was out of that seat whooping.
Although I think the Pixies are amazing, I don't understand why the concert was sold out. The crowd -- average age 19 -- didn't seem to know the music. I realized after a few songs I was one of the few people standing, and everyone around me were not only just not standing, they sat as if nailed in place, not nodding their head, not waving or tapping their feet or... anything. Between songs, there was a respectful clapping. It was like we were at the symphony or something. Kids these days!
And this was surprising -- and very disappointing. If you are unfamiliar, the Pixies' music alternates from crunchy chords and blaring melodies pierced out on three electric guitars down to a full-out screaming punk and either way they are far, far from elevator muzak. Saint Kirk Cobain is only one of many to credit the Pixies with influencing his music. Even my cheap ticket was $45.
Not surprisingly, a lame audience meant the Pixies stopped breaking between songs and the end chord of one song would immediately give way to the first of the next. If I had one complaint -- uh oh, geezer alert! -- was that it was sometimes Too Loud. If I were a Pixie (note: who are all about my age) there were times when I wouldn't have known what notes to scream, with those competing guitars and drums blasting.
On the drive back from the concert, I had a breakthrough about my writing. It's a secret, but it's a really good premise for the ideas I've been collecting all along. I just hope I can keep with it...
Being single gives a lot of freedom. I can do what I like when I like, and one of those things was driving two weeks ago to Akron, to see one of my all-time favorite bands, The Pixies.
When I first heard the Pixies were doing a tour after elevensome years, it seemed to be already too late to buy a ticket: their concert dates were selling out within minutes. But after a few weeks and on a whim I clicked on a ticket purchase site -- and ooh! One was available!
It was true; once I found my nose-bleed seat, if the venue wasn't sold out, it was nearly sold out. In my section, the only empties were the seats to either side of me (which was fine by me!). And the second I heard the first guitar and drum riff, I was out of that seat whooping.
Although I think the Pixies are amazing, I don't understand why the concert was sold out. The crowd -- average age 19 -- didn't seem to know the music. I realized after a few songs I was one of the few people standing, and everyone around me were not only just not standing, they sat as if nailed in place, not nodding their head, not waving or tapping their feet or... anything. Between songs, there was a respectful clapping. It was like we were at the symphony or something. Kids these days!
And this was surprising -- and very disappointing. If you are unfamiliar, the Pixies' music alternates from crunchy chords and blaring melodies pierced out on three electric guitars down to a full-out screaming punk and either way they are far, far from elevator muzak. Saint Kirk Cobain is only one of many to credit the Pixies with influencing his music. Even my cheap ticket was $45.
Not surprisingly, a lame audience meant the Pixies stopped breaking between songs and the end chord of one song would immediately give way to the first of the next. If I had one complaint -- uh oh, geezer alert! -- was that it was sometimes Too Loud. If I were a Pixie (note: who are all about my age) there were times when I wouldn't have known what notes to scream, with those competing guitars and drums blasting.
On the drive back from the concert, I had a breakthrough about my writing. It's a secret, but it's a really good premise for the ideas I've been collecting all along. I just hope I can keep with it...