And Foreigner and Night Ranger in Seattle. My first visit to the land of Dr. Frasier Crane.
City was nice (more on that in a future post), and I found a cool record store, although it was hard to find places in which it was acceptable to smoke. I hate that. Although there is something to be said for the joys of sneaking a furtive smoke under the disapproving radar of the Anti-Smoking Nazis.
However, on the never say never again front, I had all but decided it would take a lot to get me back (I was there for 3 days and not one person offered to sell me Heroin or a blowjob - I remember when Seattle was cool, now it seems to have died and moved to the suburbs), when I discovered I could go see my beloved Seahawks and the quote unquote Dream Team Philadelphia Eagles on December 1st without missing any work (thank you, Air Miles), for a nominal charge. Although I still have to book my hotel room and will have to suffer through Air Canada connecting flights in Vancouver. A small price to pay, as it means that my goal of a trip to Las Vegas next year at least once each month is still all too alive. And no, I have absolutely NO idea what it is that I'm running from with all this travel. Not a great deal of interest, either. I spent waaaay too much time over analyzing things, events, my own damn self, whatever during the past (see the Kendra years). No time think. Must move.
Anyhoo, if you're at the game or watching on TV, keep an eye out for me. Have bail money ready, in case the 'Hawks lose and we burn the fucker DOWN.
Apropos of nothing (simply how I roll, I read it in Lonn Friend's book, and it stuck), an inspirational quote: The Secret (what can I say? I'm New Age) is never have joint bank accounts and never get married.
And now, back to the show. Wasn't Seattle the birthplace of quote unquote grunge? And yet, 3 bands who haven't been relevant (other than lead singer changes) in 25 years sell out the stadium-sized venue. I was hoping there'd be empty seats and folks would be moved up to fill the empty seats.
Night Ranger is one of the few 80's bands I've never really been all that familiar with. That being said, I was still there for their set (Key Arena was across the street and past a bus stop from my hotel, even the correct entrance for the section I was sitting in), and was pleasantly surprised. Jack Blades has an excellent stage presence, the band has some good songs, and they had the sense to (again, I'm hopelessly old school) stick to what the audience came to hear. With the exception of:
- a more than welcome rendition of the Damn Yankees (Blades, Tommy Shaw, Ted Nugent and some other guy) High Enough, always a personal favorite. Especially if I'm in a certain sort of mood.
- a sped up version of the first verse of the Eagles' (November 19th in Las Vegas) timeless Hotel California
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not going to rush out and buy the band's discography, but when they pop up on my XM Radio, I'll listen. Good set. Even if Blades couldn't remember it was Friday. It was neat to hear that Seattle was where they'd played their first show (with Heart and Aldo Nova), also. What? I'm a geek. Blow me.
I have no idea who Foreigner's new lead singer is (yeah, like I do any research, you know me better than that), and I miss Lou Gramm, but new guy was pretty solid. Even finishing the set after what looked like serious injury attempting to climb back onto the stage after the obligatory jaunt into the crowd. Rock and ROLL. It was, after all, the last night of the tour.
Oh, yes, the show was replete with MILF's a plenty in the crowd. Unfortunately, not in my section, Although there was one that shook her married ass pretty good. But I digress. I do that a lot. It's not like my quote unquote thoughts are organized. I take a few notes when things strike themselves upon me and then I riff on the freestyle tip. A nice little peak behind the curtain. Moving on.
Foreigner also had the sense to play the hits. I knew every song, which I always enjoy. Light show was cool, too. Now's the twilight of your careers, boys. Simply re-record the classics with the new singer, sell it as a greatest hits package, and maybe record a live disc; then sit back and let the royalty stream flow your way. And bang as many MILF groupies as you can. Maybe film and sell (thank you, Phil Varone) it. Damn, maybe I should've been an accountant or financial planner, rather than the voice of a generation. Next life.
Because, oh my yes, the MILF's and Cougars in the audience were up and dancing when rockers such as Dirty White Boy and Double Vision were played. And, because of the age group, involved, during I Want To Know What Love Is (with the other 2 bands and everybody's road crew singing backup) there were almost as many lighters as cell phones held aloft. Again, old school. Nope, I didn't take any pictures, I was pretty far away, I still need a better zoom app, and I had a touch of vertigo from being in the row of the upper deck (the show WAS sold out, after all, and I still have 2 (now 3) more trips to make this year; moneys don't grow on trees, only on leafs and opium blossoms, poppies) right against the railing, looking straight down. The usher in my section did relate a cool story about some chump nearly toppling over said railing at a KISS concert. See, things almost always have a way of tying themselves together.
I was thrilled yesterday when, despite having booked an appointment a week and a half prior and taking my car in at 0700, the service department still hadn't gotten to it at 4 pm and likely wouldn't have it done until mid day today. All I'm getting is a fucking oil change and coolant flush. Good thing I made that appointment, though.
But I'm not bitter. Much. Hopefully it'll be ready at a decent time today as I have to be at work at 0400 tomorrow.
I've always been a fan of Journey. Always will be. Yes, they were better with (whatever happened to?) Steve Perry, but they're still good. I do, however, wonder what kind of groupies the new lead singer attracts. Understandably, he put a lot more effort into the band's new material than the classics. I'm pretty sure there were only 3 new songs played. You know, the ones where the audience sat down, stopped dancing, and went mute. I even bought me a used copy of the remastered version of the classic Escape disc for the live in Houston versions of Don't Stop Believin' (fucking Glee cast ruined it), Open Arms and Who's Crying Now. Totally worth the $5 I paid.
The new guy can totally wail. His vocals were, however, occasionally overwhelmed by the volume of the band. Fortunately, this didn't occur when they opened with my favorite Journey tune, Worlds Apart/Separate Ways or whatever it's called. An excellent choice, as it got the crowd into proceedings immediately. And answered the inevitable will they or won't they question for me.
Okay, I get the drum solo. Even the 2 guitar solos, but a keyboard solo (I learned how to play the hook to Seven Nation Army by the White Stripes on the keyboard at the Experience Music Project, even played some drums, too, good times), really? Whatever. It was a good show. I'd definitely see them again, and I would've even bought a shirt (nope, not going to buy Eclipse, I bought Revelation for the DVD and the CD of the new lineup's version of the classics; well, that and the fact it was only about $12 at WalMart), had I been able to find the merch booths. Not that I looked or anything. Sadly, they didn't play Who's Crying Now. But I can live with that, too.
Bottom line, if any or all of these bands comes to your town, check 'em out. My ticket was $36.50 plus (Evil Empire) Ticketmaster's inevitable service charges (cocksuckers), a more than reasonable price for over 3 hours of music. And MILF's.