Friday: concert.
Saturday: concert.
Sunday: pickleball… then a concert.
3 shows. 9 performers. From all over the musical spectrum.
Friday was Wussy with Advance Base and Moontype. Indie rock.
Saturday was a singer/songwriter “listening room” showcase featuring shorter sets from Sami Riggs, Lydia Shae, and Ash Taylor. Country-leaning.
Sunday was a punk show with Snõõper, Shrudd, and Pal. Three short but very high energy sets.
Am I too old for rock and roll? (Jethro Tull said I was.) I don’t think so. But I was on the fence for last night’s show. My buddy Dave and I were supposed to go. Dave’s son Jack works at a recording studio in Nashville and has worked with Snõõper. But Dave’s other son — who also lives in Nashville and is an ace guitarist — was in a car accident over the weekend. Concussion and dislocated shoulder… and totaled car. So Dave went down to Nashville. And I was trying to talk myself out of going to the Sunday show. But our mutual friend Matt took Dave’s ticket. So off I went. And I’m so glad I did. Matt and I brought the audience’s average age up by 20 years, but we didn’t care. In fact, we fed off the energy of the kids in the band and the kids in the mosh pit (yes, there was one!).
I know my music obsession isn’t normal. But then again, neither am I.
There used to be a large pool/amusement park near our house called Coney Island.
They tore it down a couple of years ago (to make room for a new concert shed, btw). But I will always remember the George Bernard Shaw they had painted on a wall that faced the street:
Sub out “going to concerts” for “playing” and that’s me!
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