Truth and soul

Going through my recent war nostalgia made me start thinking about all the great concerts I saw my semester in London, then about all the great concerts I’ve seen in my life. Music and concerts are major building blocks of my memories that help me signify splintered pieces of my past. These thoughts came back when I ran across ticketstubs, a site dedicated to telling ticket stories (concerts, sports, travel, etc.). You submit a scan of your stub and write a short piece about your experience. This is one of the coolest ideas for storytelling on the Web — a groovy angle on what Fray does.

I already submitted (and they published) a piece on seeing a secret R.E.M. gig in London in 1991. I hope to write a couple more — it’s the first time I’ve submitted anything to a writing site on the Web, and I’m kinda shocked and relieved I did it. Hopefully this is only a first trickle. The concept was the perfect inspiration to get me going.

I’ve been hooked on shows ever since my first — Alice Cooper in 1981. I was 10 years old, and all I listened to was him and KISS. As fate would have it, Alice stopped by our little Missouri town’s Memorial Hall on his “Special Forces” tour. My parents caved in and took me. I encountered my first Christian fundamentalists — they told my parents they were going to hell for bringing me there, to which my dad replied that he was the devil. And I smelled pot for the first time (I couldn’t understand why my parents wouldn’t tell me what the funny-smelling smoke was).

Imagine, if you will, two normal-looking parents sitting at this show with a 10-year-old in the middle, standing on his chair and yelling all the lyrics. I was devastated that Alice had what looked like short hair — he was going through his new wave phase — but my faith returned when he walked out for the encore (”School’s Out”) with his long hair hanging down, screaming “Thought I cut it, didn’t you fuckers?” I was out late on a school night seeing someone who, to me, literally was a comic book hero. I was on top of the world.

I haven’t stopped going since. Sometimes I even go to shows of bands I don’t love just for the live experience. I learned after being totally destroyed by the chaos of my first Fishbone show (1988) that some bands have to be heard live to be fully understood. Other bands I like never should be seen live (Smashing Pumpkins, Consolidated). I’ll always remember my first punk show (Black Flag, 1986), my favorite concert ever (Butthole Surfers, 1987), my first stage dive (Mighty Mighty Bosstones, 1992) and my first gig at the 9:30 Club (Bad Brains, 1999).

In fact, I’ll probably always remember most of the shows I’ve seen, as they all have a significance. Even crap shows, such as seeing Poison open for Ratt, became memorable experiences (that one thanks to a cup of ice, 6th-row seats and good aim). They all affected me in some way, and I hope to be affected much more.

In the meantime, I’d like to know some of your memorable concert moments. Feel free to leave little descriptions in the comments or, if you have a stub and some time, drop a story off at ticketstubs. I’d love to see that project grow.