more old-school
For the record, I have not yet violated the concert freeze. I was kindly provided with free tickets to the following two shows. Onward!
March 12, Elton John at DCU Center (“the DCU Center,” perhaps?) in Worcester, Mass. I must admit that up until the day of the show, I was under the impression that Billy Joel would also be performing at this show. See, every single time I’ve seen either one of them in the past, it’s been together. Turns out they actually had a falling out and are absolutely no longer performing together. The more you know…
Anyway, the Just Elton John By Himself show was good, albeit marred by some unfortunate circumstances surrounding the show itself (namely, the longer-than-expected drive to and from the venue on very little sleep, the uncomfortably hot arena, the crushing crowds, the too-loud speaker system that killed the sound quality, and the mysterious hour-plus delay getting out of the parking garage). I think I’m just not cut out for mega-arena shows anymore. Maybe I never was, especially when exhausted.
I knew from reading reviews of earlier shows that Leon Russell would make an appearance. Check another off the “legends seen” list! I wasn’t too familiar with his history and song catalog, but their performance together was a highlight. Other than the Leon Russell segment (which last for several songs), the show was heavy on the classic hits. I always find it sad that Elton John can’t hit (or no longer feels like hitting) those famous high notes in so many of his songs. They sound like they’ve lost an important layer.
Fortunately, his awe-inspiring skills on the piano have stood the test of time. As a wannabe pianist who took lessons for nine years, I can always appreciate someone who’s a master on the keys like that. Our seats were way up in the rafters, but the venue was equipped with huge screens that often zoomed in on a mirror image of his hands flying over the keys. Mesmerizing.
My other gifted show was Roger McGuinn on April 23 at Infinity Hall, which is very quickly becoming my favorite venues despite being in the middle of nowhere. It’s a scenic middle of nowhere, at least, and no longer freezing cold given that it’s no longer, you know, February.
I first started listening to The Byrds at some point in high school as a way of enjoying Bob Dylan’s songs without listening to Bob Dylan’s voice (never fear, I quickly came around and recognized the voice of Bobby D as the incomparable sonic sensation it is). Then I got into Sweetheart of the Rodeo during my “hey, don’t hate on all country music!” exploratory stage, started to learn about the amazingness of folk-rock, and have been a big fan since. So, seeing their leader — especially in such a small space — was exciting.
The seats were front-row and perfect, recreating that lovely living-room feel that I’d enjoyed during the Rhett Miller show back in February. (That show and the Josh Ritter show the following day, sadly, have yet to be formally recapped on here. I’m on it… eventually.)
After a quick intro of “My Back Pages,” he settled into a chair and began storytelling mode. Now, I’m normally really impatient with between-songs commentary at concerts (came there for the music, after all), but he was a good storyteller. He told us the complete back story about his start in the music business, the formation of The Byrds, the recording of their first album, and their idolization of The Beatles. Told in segments between full songs and quick illustrative guitar samples, the tale was captivating and filled with warm humor. Like I said, very living-room-like. I’m now much more informed, too!
The songs, all performed solo, were all familiar and faithfully recreated, with a range of instruments used — 12-string guitar, banjo, etc. I can’t say I’ve seen some of those played live very often. There were many moments of, “Oh, right — I forgot that they did *that* song, too!” It wasn’t an especially long show and went by fast. He’d noted during the storytelling that most of the songs were written to fit that 2.5-minute slot that radio favored so heavily back then, which meant that several verses of songs that were originally long (like “Mr. Tambourine Man”) were whittled down in the re-done versions.
The closing song was that famous Irish blessing — you know, the one that was sung at both my high school graduation and my college graduation and is always a bit emotional.
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
That one. Sweet and beautiful.
