Last night the tremendously triumphant trio of Kyle the Killer, Cory the Cornificious, and I saw Bob Dylan and The Raconteurs live at the Civic Center. It was sickkkkkkkkk, to put it bluntly.
I've never been a die-hard fan of Bobby D. I've never really been a die-hard fan of any band or artist in my entire life. Movies are my thing, not music. I played guitar on-and-off for a couple years, but I haven't touched one (or thought about one until this post) for a few months.
But last night I was fucking captivated. I've always kind of wanted to go to a concert, but I've never really wanted to see a current band that is cheap enough to go to (of course I'd kill, or at least pay several hundred dollars, to see Zeppelin, The Doors, and Jimi Hendrix). Last night though I got my concierto cherry popped by a living legend, none other than Mr. Robert Allan Zimmerman. That's Bob Dylan to you.
Kyle and I left practice early to get pick up Cory and take the long trip to Portland and get good seats (general admission, bitches). Well, we did. A bunch of nut-jobs who got there before we did ended up hundreds of feet away from The Main Attraction in the bleachers and the nosebleed seats, while we were twenty feet away from a living legend. As retarded as it was, my friends and I couldn't stop screaming "OH MY EFFING CHRIST THAT'S BOB FUCKING DYLAN!!!!" every thirty seconds or so.
As it was my first concert, it was my first experience with a concert audience. There was girls, there were drunk guys, there were Arabs named Abe, and there was weed. I haven't done weed since the summer, and it was kind of a rush getting the contact from the community joint, which I wouldn't have turned down had it gotten passed to me before some jackass father "trying to look out for his young children" (nine isn't that young there, douchebag), stomped it out. I could definitely feel the buzz on the ride home though. For God's sake, we laughed at drinking water for forty-five minutes.
And of course, the music was amazing. I didn't really know what to expect since it was my first concert. A few days ago The Guns and Roses cancelled their concert in Portland only two hours before it was supposed to start, and I know that 50 Cent once played for 20 minutes in front of 9,000 people who had payed over $75 per ticket, so I knew it was supposed to last for a while. The Raconteurs, the opening band, played for over an hour. The lead singer/guitarist is Jack White, leader of the White Stripes, which I found out afterward. He and the other singer were great, both of them were into it and had some stage presence. They played nine or ten songs and then closed up for intermission.
And then, we waited.
Oh God intermission sucked. I was tired, I was sore, I had to go to the bathroom, and I was surrounded by a bunch of sweaty strangers with no music playing. And yeah, it lasted for about an hour.
But then, he came.
I can’t say that I was overly excited when Bob came on stage. I had just suffered through an hour with no music, unable to sit down or stretch my legs, and by God it smelled like shit. Hundreds of people bunched together doesn't add up to a good smell, you know. I was pretty cranky when Bobby D finally hit the stage, I even thought about leaving. After a few songs though, the crowd got into it, and I was lured in. I'm not the biggest fan, and I don't know most of his lyrics, but I had fun. There were probably a dozen joints being passed around the crowd, and though I never touched one, I definitely felt the effect. I felt light and happy, and the music was awesome, even if I couldn't comprehend what Dylan was saying. He played a dozen songs and then came out for a three-song encore, which made the crowd go nuts. It was an awesome night. Definitely worth my mom's $54.
I've never been a die-hard fan of Bobby D. I've never really been a die-hard fan of any band or artist in my entire life. Movies are my thing, not music. I played guitar on-and-off for a couple years, but I haven't touched one (or thought about one until this post) for a few months.
But last night I was fucking captivated. I've always kind of wanted to go to a concert, but I've never really wanted to see a current band that is cheap enough to go to (of course I'd kill, or at least pay several hundred dollars, to see Zeppelin, The Doors, and Jimi Hendrix). Last night though I got my concierto cherry popped by a living legend, none other than Mr. Robert Allan Zimmerman. That's Bob Dylan to you.
Kyle and I left practice early to get pick up Cory and take the long trip to Portland and get good seats (general admission, bitches). Well, we did. A bunch of nut-jobs who got there before we did ended up hundreds of feet away from The Main Attraction in the bleachers and the nosebleed seats, while we were twenty feet away from a living legend. As retarded as it was, my friends and I couldn't stop screaming "OH MY EFFING CHRIST THAT'S BOB FUCKING DYLAN!!!!" every thirty seconds or so.
As it was my first concert, it was my first experience with a concert audience. There was girls, there were drunk guys, there were Arabs named Abe, and there was weed. I haven't done weed since the summer, and it was kind of a rush getting the contact from the community joint, which I wouldn't have turned down had it gotten passed to me before some jackass father "trying to look out for his young children" (nine isn't that young there, douchebag), stomped it out. I could definitely feel the buzz on the ride home though. For God's sake, we laughed at drinking water for forty-five minutes.
And of course, the music was amazing. I didn't really know what to expect since it was my first concert. A few days ago The Guns and Roses cancelled their concert in Portland only two hours before it was supposed to start, and I know that 50 Cent once played for 20 minutes in front of 9,000 people who had payed over $75 per ticket, so I knew it was supposed to last for a while. The Raconteurs, the opening band, played for over an hour. The lead singer/guitarist is Jack White, leader of the White Stripes, which I found out afterward. He and the other singer were great, both of them were into it and had some stage presence. They played nine or ten songs and then closed up for intermission.
And then, we waited.
Oh God intermission sucked. I was tired, I was sore, I had to go to the bathroom, and I was surrounded by a bunch of sweaty strangers with no music playing. And yeah, it lasted for about an hour.
But then, he came.
I can’t say that I was overly excited when Bob came on stage. I had just suffered through an hour with no music, unable to sit down or stretch my legs, and by God it smelled like shit. Hundreds of people bunched together doesn't add up to a good smell, you know. I was pretty cranky when Bobby D finally hit the stage, I even thought about leaving. After a few songs though, the crowd got into it, and I was lured in. I'm not the biggest fan, and I don't know most of his lyrics, but I had fun. There were probably a dozen joints being passed around the crowd, and though I never touched one, I definitely felt the effect. I felt light and happy, and the music was awesome, even if I couldn't comprehend what Dylan was saying. He played a dozen songs and then came out for a three-song encore, which made the crowd go nuts. It was an awesome night. Definitely worth my mom's $54.
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