Wow. Just Wow.
I’ve seen a lot of great shows in my life (The White Stripes from the front row of a small club, Steve Earle on several occasions, I even saw Johnny Cash once but that is a really embarassing story which I refuse to tell). I would say that the Billy Bragg show last night ranks right up there in my personal top ten.
I have been listening to Billy Bragg since my Dad played his tapes for us on car trips. I got a CD of my own on my 18th birthday (Reaching for the Converted, great album). These days I listen to his MP3’s on my iPod.
It’s amazing how music can become the background music for your life without you even realizing it. Billy Bragg’s music is so familiar, even when I don’t remember why I know a particular song. I heard a lot of it when I was younger. I guess it stayed in my sub-conscience.
Billy Bragg’s songs embody so much of what is important in my life. Politics, fighting the good fight, love, pints. I think that one of the best lines I’ve ever heard comes from his Song ‘Shirley:’
I’m celebrating my love for you
With a pint of beer and a new tattoo.
I don’t know why I love that line so much. It just resonates with me.
So, anyways, the show last night was incredible. He was recovering from losing his voice, so there was a lot of talking and drinking of hot tea. He sang a lot of songs that he doesn’t normally do. Songs that were easier to sing when you can’t hit the high notes. He called his new persona “Johhny Clash” which just evokes such great imagery. London Calling for the Man in Black.
We heard a lot of new songs, including one that he wrote after sound check. So awesome. I hope that when I’m 49 I’m still writing songs that kick ass. Songs that resonate. Songs that mean something.
And, because this wouldn’t be my blog if I didn’t write something snarky, I would like to say a little something to the little shits that were sitting behind us.
*Ahem*
Dear Little Shits:
I know that, at the tender age of 19, you think that you know everything. Trust me. I thought that I knew everything when I was your age. But it really took me until now, at the ripe and mature age of 24 that I really know it all. So I’m going to pass some of my wisdom on to you. Specifically, how to behave at a concert. I managed to tune you out, because I am older than you and more enlightened. But for the sake of everyone else around you, here are some helpful hints.
- If you’re going to sneak in booze, try to choose something cooler than nips of malibu. A pint is probably not so feasible, but don’t you think that Billy Bragg deserves to be apreciated over some whisky? Crappy rum is almost an insult in that situation.
- I know that the Somerville Theater primarily shows movies, but that still doesn’t mean that you should bring Pringles. And if you have to bring snack food to a concert, can you at least keep your mouth shut? Kthxbye
- I didn’t pay a lot of money for my ticket to hear you sing. I paid a lot of money to hear Billy Bragg sing. I don’t mind it when people quietly sing along. Sometimes I do it myself. We all appreciate music in our own way… But, if I can still hear you sing over the sound of Billy Bragg’s voice when he is singing into a microphone which is plugged into many, many amplifiers… Well? Maybe you should consider singing more quieter. Also? In your case? I think that I would recommend some singing lessons.
Well, there you go. The benfit of all my wisdom and experience. No, no. Don’t bother thanking me. I’ll leave that to the people sitting next to you at the next concert that you go to. Remember. Leave the Malibu at home.
Love,
Me.
