Notes from the road: Outdoor concert season wrap-up

 Outdoor concert season has pretty much wrapped up, so I thought it would be nice to document the last few that I went to this season. Why the delay? Because at the time I didn’t think I had anything to say about them that I hadn’t already said before. (This is still kind of true, but bear with me here.) Thinking about it a bit more, I discovered that there are some threads that ran through all of them, both good and bad. 

This piece is longer, but the reviews themselves are shorter than what I usually write. I suspect that won’t be an issue, though, so let’s just get on with it. 

The Avett Brothers w/ Trampled by Turtles, Alpine Valley Amphitheater (East Troy, WI) - 8/18/24

I had never been to Alpine Valley, which is somehow both surprising and not. The acts that tend to appear there aren’t really in my wheelhouse (Phish, Dave Matthews, etc.) so I’m not sure that I’ll ever actually go again. However, if another good bill like this shows up, count me in. 

Our seats were in the very back of the reserved area, but did not feel far away. I suspect if we were on the edges of the massive stage I would feel differently, but otherwise there doesn’t seem to be an actual bad seat in the house. (The hill, where the majority of “seats” are, is probably a different story. Particularly if it’s a full house, which this was definitely not.) The hike back to the bathrooms sucked. 24 oz. beers at $14 a pop is fucking ludicrous. Other than that, the venue was absolutely perfect for this kind of show.

Trampled by Turtles’ brand of bluegrass vacillates from pretty and pastoral to virtuosity and velocity, and this was on display from the get-go. Unfortunately their PA system crapped out midway through the hour-long set and suddenly they were playing to the GA pit without even realizing it.

At first they had precisely one mic working, so they gathered around it and did some choice covers from The Band (“The Weight”) and Bob Dylan (“Don’t Think Twice, it’s All Right”) while the sound team tried to solve the issue. Eventually they hooked into The Avett Brothers’ PA and all was well.

They closed with their most popular song, “Wait So Long.” Cellist Eamonn McLain in particular put a little extra into this one, as he looked to be beating his instrument with his bow. 

***

I’d like to think that every couple who enjoys live music has a band that they absolutely must see every time they come to town. The Avett Brothers is that band for my wife and I.

I’ve never seen a bad performance by these guys, and this 25-song, 2 hour set was no different. Yet at the end of it I felt kind of empty. I thought maybe the multiple $14 beers played a part in this but after looking at the setlist I realized that I truly didn’t recognize most of the songs. The height of my Avett Brothers fandom runs from 2007’s Emotionalism through 2012’s The Carpenter; those albums got 6 of the 25 songs played. Their latest album also got 6 of those 25 songs, so you can see where this is going. 

None of that is the Avett Brothers’ fault, of course. It was a career-spanning set that was supposed to have something for everyone; it just didn’t have enough for me. It doesn’t help that it was literally half a lifetime ago when I was curious/obsessed enough to explore a band’s entire catalog. I don’t have time for that shit now. 

This isn’t to say that there weren’t highlights, because there were. “Murder In The City,” one of their best songs, is an emotional experience every time I hear it. Scott Avett sang it from the corner of the stage, just him and his guitar, and it seemed like he was singing only to me. With my wife by my side, holding hands, the lines “Always remember there was nothing worth sharing / Like the love that let us share our name” carried extra weight. Jesus goddamn Christ, was it overwhelming.

“I and Love and You,” from the album of the same name, had the biggest singalong of the night, and rightfully so. "Love of a Girl," from the new album, is a winner and should make future shows.

The biggest applause may have been for the line “Your life doesn’t change by the man who’s elected,” from “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise,” which for a straight white man such as myself is demonstrably true. My kindest reading of that line is that it’s defiant, that we must persevere, which is also true. However, and I will get political here so buckle up, if you look outside yourself for a minute you can see how harmful that view can be. So please: hold your nose, swallow the pill, set your well-reasoned convictions aside and vote against the orange shitheel. The country won’t improve immediately – progress in electoral politics is always slow. But it is better than having a demented old man (or his deeply weird, spineless protege) in charge.

For the encore, The Avetts opened with a cover of Toby Keith’s “As Good As I Once Was,” which I found to be a low-key good choice. You can think what you’d like about Keith and his music, I feel it’s mostly harmless. In a venue filled with good vibes, on a perfect summer evening, this particular song was a hit. 

Despite the fact that the set didn’t live up to my personal expectations, it was still an excellent performance. Like the Bob Seger song, they left every ounce of energy on stage. The Avett Brothers remain one of my absolute favorite live acts, and this show did nothing to change that. 

The National w/ The War on Drugs, Breese Stevens Field (Madison, WI) - 9/26/24

Unlike the last time I was in Madison to see a show, the weather cooperated for this one. Breese Stevens is a pretty good venue; even in the GA section everything sounds good.

There are major “dudes rock” vibes surrounding The War on Drugs, and their brand of music (think Dire Straits x Tom Petty with a touch of modern indie rock) matched perfectly with the crowd.

The entire hour-long set went down smoothly like a 6-pack of light beer. I do not mean that as a put-down. I mean that it was fucking awesome. When the “WOOO!” from “Red Eyes” hit at the midway point of the set, it turned all the fist-pumping and air guitar playing into overdrive. 

It is true, at least to me, that the songs all sort of blurred together into one samey-sounding piece. But I didn’t think about it all that much. I had more fun goofing on the wind chimes on the drumkit (It reminded me of Yanni; my concert compatriot and college buddy thought early Genesis, which was probably more apt) and ultimately losing myself in the blissed-out guitar solos. 

***

Kings of dad rock The National are certainly leaning into that moniker these days, as they have an entire line of “Sad Dads” merchandise that they would like to sell you. (Full disclosure: I am the proud owner of a Sad Dads koozie. I hate how on the nose that is.)

The thing with The National is, even though their music is oftentimes grey and depressed, that seeing them live is a different story. The aforementioned concert compatriot made an astute point here, noting that though he wasn’t quite sold on their records – they’re fine and nothing more – seeing them live made him appreciate the band more. I wholeheartedly agree. When they hit the stage it was like a switch was flipped – Dorothy getting to the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz movie comes to mind. 

Of course, it helps that they played all of my favorite songs. My far-and-away favorite album of theirs, Boxer, was well represented with “Fake Empire” and “Mistaken by Strangers” being highlights. The absolute cacophony in the outro of “Squalor Victoria” was also quite stunning. 

Other jams included “Bloodbuzz Ohio,” “The System Dreams in Total Darkness,” and the cathartic “Mr. November.” Admittedly I didn’t know half the songs they played – a couple of albums aside I am only a casual fan – but unlike the Avett Brothers the other half were all stone cold bangers. What a difference set list choices can make. 

To go back to the switch-flipping metaphor, The National had one more of those up their sleeve for their last encore song, “About Today.” On record it is a quiet, contemplative ballad about longing – and live it was no different… until the full band came crashing in at the end, creating a righteous noise to close out the show. It was one last hit of euphoria in a set filled with them. 

Sturgill Simpson, The Salt Shed (Chicago, IL) - 10/1/24

Sturgill Simpson doesn’t really give a fuck what you think. He does what he wants on his records, and he does what he wants to on stage. Inspired by the guitar playing of Jerry Garcia, he decided he wanted to tour again – and that his shows would resemble something out of the jam band scene. This includes shows that routinely go past the three-hour mark, choice covers sprinkled throughout, and jams on top of jams. 

I’ll get this out of the way right away – three hours is too god damned long for one artist. I can’t think of a single band I’d like to hear perform for that long, nor would I listen to one at home for that length. I am that bummer of a person (killjoy?) that believes there can be too much of a good thing. 

That being said, I was most excited to see Sturgill. I’ve been following his career since 2014, when I saw him perform for maybe 150 people at Turner Hall Ballroom. Before Covid hit, he was in the midst of a tour that saw him performing in basketball arenas, which I thought would not serve him well. The outdoor stage at The Salt Shed holds approximately 5,000 people, and that felt right. 

The show started out with a 10-minute jam on “Brace for Impact (Live A Little)” which seemed a bit dirge-like to me, but I dug it. After that it was as if the band was like a football team stubbornly sticking with the running game, body blow after body blow until hitting one big. The first big one came on their cover of the Allman Brothers’ “Midnight Rider,” wherein the hooting and hollering got into full swing. 

It was kind of off to the races from there. “Best Clockmaker on Mars” was face-melting. “A Whiter Shade of Pale” was one of several good covers. 

The jammier elements really got going with Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit In the Sky” (which I thought was ZZ Top’s "La Grange"…oops) leading into “A Good Look” which faded seamlessly into the Doors’ “L.A. Woman.” Exhilarating doesn’t begin to describe that run. 

The show was only half over at this point. 

The old man (and old woman) maladies that I wrote about in my Summerfest ‘24 review popped up once again. We had both been up since 4:30-ish that morning; we were hungry and tired so we sat down and ate. Unfortunately we never made our way back into the actual crowd. I’m no rail rider and I won’t push through the audience for a closer view. But being back where people were mostly milling about and not paying much attention to the performance took me out of the show. I was hearing it just fine, but not really feeling it. 

That being said, Sturgill and his band absolutely killed it. Simpson is no slouch on the guitar, but lead player Laur Joamets takes it to another level. He makes everything seem effortless. The keyboard player was a welcome addition to the band as well, and the remainder of the group was locked in all night. 

As much as I wanted to lay down at this point, the band still had gas in the tank. “It Ain’t All Flowers” maybe wasn’t as gnarly as on record, but still awesome; “One For The Road” was sublime; Prince’s “Purple Rain” was heartfelt; the set-closing, nearly 15-minute “Call To Arms” sent us home exhausted. It seemed like it did not want to end, ebbing and flowing and surging until it just couldn’t any more. (Once again my ears deceived me as I thought I heard a Pink Floyd vibe in the middle; setlist.fm says it was “Band On The Run”) It was over in a flash. Sturgill, who spoke only sparingly throughout the night, got on the mic and said “Thank you, we’ll see you tomorrow!” and that was it.

As much as I didn’t care for the marathon set it was still an excellent show. I highly recommend seeing him if you can. If you’re not familiar with his music, a good place to start might be his set from Outside Lands, free on YouTube. For the full experience, try out Nugs.net – sign up for the free trial, and pick out any show from this tour. Crank up those headphones and drift away. You will not regret it.  

Concert Review: The Get Up Kids w/ The Smoking Popes - The Rave 10/8/24

 The Rave

When you’re leading off a concert review with commentary on the venue, you know something was really good or really bad about it. Unfortunately, this is the latter. The Rave may very well have been a formative venue of my youth/young adulthood (first full concert - Stabbing Westward! Green Day! Nine Inch Nails!), but as the years wear on I dislike this place more and more. 

Now to be fair this show was in the basement, but the sound mix was awful. Everything was muddy and the room just seemed to swallow the vocals. Beers were $13 or $14 whether you were drinking Rolling Rock (16oz) or Spotted Cow (12oz). I hadn’t seen a show there since 2015 or 2016, and simple things like this make me not want to come back.

In more positive news the staff was super friendly. I also think they gave the place a deep cleaning during the pandemic because the familiar stench of weed and BO is gone – at least in the basement. 

The Smoking Popes

I’ve seen them twice now and both times I’ve come away thinking that I should listen to The Smoking Popes more. I never do, of course. I think it’s because I wasn’t actually there for their heyday in the mid-90’s, and trying to get into it now makes me feel like sort of a fraud.

No matter, though. They still rocked it. Their set was at its most enjoyable when they were barreling through 6 or 7 of their pop-punk jams in the first 20 minutes or so. “Megan” was still superb even despite the cruddy vocal mix. (Why that song wasn’t a hit is beyond me.) 

The crowd was attentive if not fully engaged. It was mostly polite applause with the exceptions of “Need You Around” and  set-closing “I Know You Love Me.” All in all, an enjoyable 45-minute set.

The Get Up Kids

WHEN YOU WAKE UP, I’LL BE GONE - my AIM away message, ca. 2003

“Why would you write that for your away message?” Nikki asked me.

“I don’t know. Because I’ll be gone when you wake up?” I said. 

She shook her head at me from her computer chair.

I sat on her couch, not alone but quite lonely. I very much wanted her to be my girlfriend. She very much did not want to be my girlfriend. 

****

I mention this not because going to this show reminded me of her. It’s more that Get Up Kids lyrics remind me of the headspace I was in at the time that got me into those types of bands to begin with.

And wouldn’t you know it, as soon as they came onstage I was transported back to my dorm room in 2003, headphones on, losing myself inside a midwestern emo sound that I still enjoy to this day.

There is something to be said for seeing a band in a small room with about 200 other true believers. There was singing and dancing, of course. But more importantly there wasn’t any talking over the slow songs. That’s huge, and goes a long way to my enjoyment of a show. 

Of course, I (and possibly the other 200 people) was jarred right out of it midway through the third song, “Valentine,” when lead singer Matt Pryor called a literal time out to confess that he was sick and that his singing would be terrible. 

“You guys, we can come back another night and I can actually sing these songs good for you!” he said, hinting that the set might be cut short. 

It was probably a bit of a ruse. Guitarist Jim Suptic said “You guys are going to have to sing louder than you’ve ever sung before!” The crowd exploded. The band restarted the song, and a Dashboard Confessional show without all the cringe broke out. 

Big props to Matt Pryor for gutting through the show while clearly not 100% Suptic also stepped up by handling some vocal duties. But overall I think the crowd may have just stolen the show. They shouted the lyrics back with glee, added handclaps and even backing vocals. 

This show was in honor of the 25th anniversary of their best and most well-known album, Something to Write Home About. They played it front to back, which was awesome. The band was a little looser than they were on record, but that didn’t matter much. 

Reliving these songs really hit me right in the gut. It took me until the 9th track “I’m A Loner Dottie, A Rebel” (the song from my AIM away message above) before I really let loose as much as the rest of the crowd had been doing up to that point. I sang louder, I danced more, and at the end did a Ric Flair WOOOOO!! Those four minutes were probably the best I’d felt in weeks.

Before album closer “I’ll Catch You,” Matt Pryor made the sign of the cross. The song is slow and quiet and one he would normally belt out. He clearly didn’t have it on this night, but the crowd picked him up as they’d been doing for the past 45 minutes. It was a tender, poignant moment. 

After a short break, Jim Suptic came back to sing “Campfire Kansas,” a highlight from the underrated On A Wire LP. The rest of the band came back for an abridged greatest hit set. The final notes of “Don’t Hate Me” faded away, and that was it. The band waved goodbye, and all of the sudden I wasn’t in my dorm room any more.

The gray-haired folks in the room sharpened into greater focus, making me feel older than I already did. My thoughts raced. Was I going to be able to catch the next bus home? (I did NOT catch that bus.) How the hell am I going to get up at 4:45 AM? These guys should play Shank Hall next time they’re in town! 

I left with Get Up Kids lyrics rattling through my head, little elegies to a person I used to be. 

Summerfest 2024 Recap: Nostalgia All The Way Down

I don't really take pictures at Summerfest. This is the best I can share with you. 

The first paragraph is often the hardest to write. For the last few reviews I’ve thought that I had a new angle – that my anticipation level for the show was low – only to go back and read them all and find that I’ve been saying that for literally years. Summerfest 2024 was no different in that I’m merely a casual fan of all of them. Most of them have two or three hit songs at best, and even the one that has two or three albums that I like (The Hold Steady) is a band I haven’t paid all that much attention to since 2010 or so. 

Paradoxically, Summerfest is one of the few things – I can count them on one hand! – that bring me actual, honest joy. From the announcing of the lineups to planning out my days, the food, the people-watching, the actual music, and even the late-night shuttle rides home – Summerfest is like my happy place. Even if, when you see me down there, I will most likely be scowling in the back with my arms crossed. 

Opening Day - Thursday June 20th

I am not sure that I’ve ever been to a Summerfest opening day. So it is perhaps appropriate that the old man maladies came in hot for my first trip down to the lakefront this summer. I was tired – I do wake up at 4:45 am for work after all. My back hurt, and I grunted and grimaced every time I sat down or stood up. I complained about the beer and t-shirt prices. (Summerfest gear was surprisingly reasonable, however) I had to pee approximately one million times. 

Music festivals have been a young man’s game for quite some time, but I wasn’t going to let that bring me down. 

Better Than Ezra was up first, and I think theirs was the most fun set I saw. They seemed like they didn’t take themselves too seriously, as evidenced by the snippets of covers they played ranging from The Weeknd to Sublime to, uh, Naughty By Nature. Lead singer Kevin Griffin joked around and told facetious stories – including one that kind of had me going for a bit, about how bassist Tom Drummond actually wrote the once-inescapable Proclaimers hit “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” via a John Lennon songwriting contest. It actually turned out to be a pretty excellent cover.

Over the opening guitar lines of their biggest hit, “Good,” Griffin channeled Jim Gaffigan’s “inner voice, exclaiming “Hey! I actually know this one!” This tune definitely got the biggest reaction of the night. They did play the other two songs you probably know if not by name, then by sound. “Desperately Wanting” and “In The Blood,” along with “Good,” sounded pretty much just like you remember them. 

It was a pretty decent 75-minute set, and its good vibes and “let’s remember some songs”-nostalgia was actually a pretty accurate harbinger of what was to come for the rest of Summerfest. 

Gin Blossoms strolled to the stage nearly 20 minutes late due to audio difficulties that had the stage crew scrambling frantically. No matter though, as they kicked right into “Follow You Down” and then proceeded to perform their expertly-constructed pop rock jams for about an hour and change.

Of course, if you wanted to hear any of their other big hits you had to wait until the end of the set. Which is both fine and somewhat expected, but Gin Blossoms’ brand of MOR pop rock gets a little samey-sounding after a while. (It probably also doesn’t help that I’ve heard their biggest albums maybe two or three times each. I haven’t lived in those songs the way a superfan might have.)

But they did end up playing “Hey Jealousy” – an all-time classic of the genre – and “Found Out About You” to plenty of dancing and singing along. Much like Better Than Ezra, these old warhorses sounded as good as they did cranking out of your boombox or car stereo back in the day. It’s hard to get too worked up one way or another about Gin Blossoms, but their easygoing, workmanlike set was a nice way to close out the cool, breezy first night of Summerfest. 

Sandwiched in between the two veteran bands was local singer/songwriter Trapper Schoepp. His brand of upbeat folk rock was actually a pretty good fit for a festival. His storytelling really caught my ear, and one tune in particular nearly moved me to tears of joy. “Ferris Wheel” is about two brothers who go on a ferris wheel and wish for the ride to never end… so it doesn’t.

It would have been so easy (one imagines, I’m no songwriter) to have the song take a turn into a rumination on mortality, or perhaps a Weird Al Yankovician twist where the ferris wheel becomes unmoored and rolls and rampages away and kills everyone in its path. But it doesn’t. It’s just joyous and sweet until the very end in a way that life mostly isn’t. 

My six-year-old son would absolutely wish for an amusement park ride to never end, and “Ferris Wheel” made me happy just thinking about that. It’s little moments like this that provide counterweight to being a parent to a small child who is quickly growing – something that is oftentimes inherently and profoundly sad.

All of this concluded with me buying a t-shirt from Mr. Schoepp, the “THIS ISN’T FUN ANYMORE” model showcased in the video clip I linked above. Why that one? Because… Gestures broadly to everything around me

The shuttle bus report: Fred the bus driver was in mid-Fest form already on opening night. The Amp headliner was a country singer, so that was the soundtrack. The gussied-up ladies in their Nashville-best cowboy hats and boots absolutely ate this up. But back to Fred - he was aggressive on the road as per usual. He did an impromptu u-turn right after we got off the freeway for the hell of it, and spun the bus around a few times in the parking lot. He suffers no fools and gives no fucks, and I love every second of it, lame country music be damned.

Day 2 - Saturday, June 29

Having bands that you actually know play at 4:30PM is a relatively new phenomenon at Summerfest (or maybe I didn’t pay much attention to the early performers when I started going in my teens, I don’t know) so when The Dandy Warhols were slotted there I was curious to see what kind of show it would be.

The sun was scorching us at the Miller Lite Oasis stage as the Dandys took the stage and went right into their first hit, “Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth.” Lead singer and guitarist Courtney Taylor-Taylor had a second mic with a vocal effect on it for this song. It made him sound more disaffected than usual, almost as if it was a piss take on his own song. I understand playing the same song the same way for 30 years can get boring, but this take on it wasn’t all that good.

This much more in-depth review thought the energy level was fine, and I would agree if he was talking about the energy used to get off the couch after a couple of massive bong rips. This is kind of what the Dandys do, of course; they’ve always been glam rock for stoners. They managed to sound both gnarly and subdued.

As much as this might sound like a negative review, I found their noisy alt-rock a good reprieve from everything else I saw at the ‘Fest this summer. They played the three songs I came to hear (“Bohemian Like You” and “We Used to Be Friends” being the other two) and all of them got the hips a-shakin’ for the modest crowd that came to see them, despite the fact they were all slower than the album cuts. 

“We’re The Hold Steady, you’re Milwaukee, and we fuckin’ love you!” exclaimed lead singer Craig Finn near the end of their hour-long set. It was probably the most energetic set I saw through all of the four days I went, and that energy was reciprocated between band and fans throughout.

If I may be a bummer for a second, The Hold Steady are a party band that reminds you about the hangover that’s coming afterwards. Their music has major “dudes rock!” vibes, but their lyrics are all about lost souls and damaged people. The last song they played, “Killer Parties,” features the lines “Killer parties / Almost killed me.” 

But despite that it was easy to rock out. The band might look like a bunch of accountants, but their guitar solos were righteous. Their three song run of essentially their best songs - “Chips Ahoy!, “Stuck Between Stations,” and “Your Little Hoodrat Friend” - was unmatched by any other band I saw. 

Better Than Ezra may have been the most fun, but I think The Hold Steady was the show I enjoyed the most. I haven’t paid much attention to them since their mid-aughts heyday, but that didn’t really matter here. Craig Finn remarked “There is so much joy in what we do!” before the aforementioned “KIller Parties.” In that moment, a truer statement could not have been made.

The shuttle bus report: A new experience for me as I believe I’ve only ever taken the bus back to the bar after a headliner. There were four people on the bus total. No music. Fred needed to stop for gas. Lame all around. 

Day 3: Friday, July 5th 

There was only one band on the docket for tonight, and The Wallflowers were lowkey one of the bands I was most excited to see. I have been listening to their 1996 classic BRINGING DOWN THE HORSE quite a bit lately, and was curious how those songs translated live all these years later. 

I don’t know if it was sound issues or age or (more than likely) a little of both, but Jakob Dylan’s voice seemed thin and raspy at times. He mumbled the lyrics at times, and sounded a little too much like his old man than I’m betting he would have liked to when he did. 

But despite that I think the band itself sounded great. The Wallflowers’ music just fits well for a summer night by the lakefront. The multi-instrumentalist who played lap steel, among other things, was phenomenal. 

And yet, it was clear most people were waiting for “One Headlight.” 

“6th Avenue Heartache” was played early in the set, but the wait for another song people actually knew was quite long. Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic” was covered, but no one seemed to notice, or care. 

Plenty of people bailed throughout the set, but those who stuck out the 70 minutes or so were rewarded with the biggest hit, and then some choice covers by Cat Stevens and Tom Petty for the encore. “The Difference” closed the 90-minute set out, and sent people out into the night on a relatively good note.

The shuttle bus report: Fred’s wife Tanya was driving our bus tonight. Though I’ve witnessed her racing Fred up the Molitor Lot hill at AmFam Field, this ride was nothing to write home about. 

Day 4: Saturday, July 6th

The last day of Summerfest was a musical mish-mash for me as both bands I wanted to see - Cracker and Living Colour - played at the same time (6:00 PM).

My brother-in-law and I went back and forth between the two bands. Cracker was first up, and I think their vibe was a little bit too laid back for me. Their fiddle player was awesome, though. I wanted to wait until they played something I recognized, and they obliged with “Teen Angst (What The World Needs Now)” It was fine. 

Living Colour was right next door, and we made it just in time for their cover of MC5’s “Kick Out The Jams,” which was excellent. They also did a snippet of Prince’s (but more like Sinead O’Connor’s) “Nothing Compares 2 U,” which I think would have been better if a) it was the whole song and b) if they made it a little bit more their own. But that’s just me. They started jamming on something, so we went back to Cracker. 

Cracker was just finishing up their biggest hit, “Low,” which was cool. They followed that up with the song I was looking most forward to, “Euro-Trash Girl,” which was awesome and seemed to get the biggest reaction of the night of the songs I saw. They played their hits, and I was happy about that.

We hightailed it back to Living Colour to catch “Cult of Personality,” and it was every bit as rocking as you could hope for. 

Overall the two-band approach went better than I thought it would. 

We weren’t planning on it, but what the hell, we decided to check out Sad Boy Saturday to finish the night.

My brother-in-law thought maybe it would feature all kinds of sad music, like The Cure. I did not have the heart to tell him we would mostly be hearing third-wave emo.  But we ventured on into the Aurora Pavilion anyways.

We stuck around for maybe an hour, hour-and-a-half. They played some bangers for sure - My Chemical Romance, Dashboard Confessional, New Found Glory - but the songs we heard leaned more toward the slick, pop side of the genre. Think Fall Out Boy and Paramore. Where were local heroes The Promise Ring? The Get Up Kids or Alkaline Trio? They are far more in my wheelhouse, and maybe if we stayed for the whole thing we would’ve heard them. 

(Yes, I know, Dashboard and NFG are more or less pop too)

Overall the positive vibes of the experience provided some cognitive dissonance for me. This type of music is not something I experienced communally. I don’t want to yuck anyone's yum here – singing and dancing your hearts out to something that means a lot to you is awesome! But it was all so foreign to me – I’ve never sung any of these songs with my bros. I listened to them in my room in college, alone, with headphones on because no one wanted me to fuck them. Clearly, the crowd and I differed on this point. 

We had much more fun trying to AirDrop vulgar memes to people. There were no takers, but it was fun to think about.

The shuttle bus report: Fred drove us home one last time. It was not the end-of-night crowd, so it wasn’t crazy at all. Relaxed is how I’d put it. He still did a spin around the parking lot, because that is just what Fred does.

That is a wrap on Summerfest 2024. All of the bands – ALL OF THEM! – played the songs I wanted to hear. The performances were fine. Nothing mind-blowing, but nothing disappointing. It’s not exactly a ringing endorsement, but when all of the bands you saw are ones you only kind of sort of like at best, you can’t really hope for much more than that, can you?

Concert review: The Rolling Stones at Soldier Field, Chicago, 6/30/24

Mick Jagger is in this picture somewhere.

 One thing I’ve noticed over the years with regards to going to shows is that my anticipation level for them now is next to nothing. I think the last time I was truly giddy for a concert was Paul McCartney in 2013. (Smashing Pumpkins in 2018 in Madison, Wis. would be a small-ish club would be a close second) So it was weird heading to a sold-out Soldier Field in Chicago to see The Rolling Stones – a bucket-list band for me – with no vibes to speak of, or if you insist, no expectations. 

The Stones are a cultural institution as evidenced by all of the demographics present just in my section and those around me – grandparents smoking joints that didn’t look like hippies, grandparents that did look like hippies but weren’t smoking joints, parents with small children, college bros, leathery old bags, a latino man so drunk and/or high that he couldn’t stand without the help of his friends, and even sad-sacks like me. Quite the motley crew of folks came out to see these guys, is what I’m saying. 

But can they still play?

You can’t possibly go into a Rolling Stones show, at least as a first-timer, without thinking about whether or not a band fronted by two octogenarians can still perform competently. To put it simply, they absolutely can. Yes, Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood definitely look their ages – and ol’ Keef seemed like he didn’t know which city he was in for the first half hour – but their playing was fine. Mick Jagger apparently has the Fountain of Youth on tap wherever he is because he sprinted and danced and pranced his way across the stage with the energy of someone 50 years his junior. Jagger’s voice was, like the rest of him, in good shape. It was pretty much a best-case scenario as far as that goes. 

I’m not sure if it was the sound mix, or the stadium itself, or my seats, but in general the set was very echo-y. Steve Jones’s drums in particular clattered off the back end of the stadium (where I was) to the point of distraction, and Mick Jagger’s vocals were occasionally unintelligible. I will now take this opportunity to say – lukewarm take incoming – that the stadium rock experience mostly sucks. Whether in a cathedral like Lambeau or a dump like Soldier, the seats are so far away that there’s no connection to the artist or show at all (unless you really want to pony up the cash), the sightlines aren’t good, the beer is overpriced, and it’s a pain in the ass to get home. 

The Stones overcame this inherent poor experience by delivering a mostly hit-heavy set. Perhaps the tempos were a couple of steps slower than you remember, but they mostly sounded like the studio versions you know and love. Exceptions included a jammed-out “Miss You”, complete with bass and horn solos and set-closer “Satisfaction” that seemed like it never wanted to end. The “surprises” were hit or miss; “Rocks Off” was excellent, fan-voted “Shattered” was “blah” at best. Jagger’s vocals on the latter were off-kilter and kind of a mess. In fact, his vocal phrasing on a lot of songs wasn’t quite what it was on the albums – making it kind of hard to sing along. The Rolling Stones have approximately one million live albums, but I haven’t listened to a single one closely, so that might just be how he has always sung live. 

Keith Richards took the reins for a few songs in the middle of the set. “Tell Me Straight” sent people straight to the bathrooms. “Little T&A” fared better, though it was more than a little discomforting to hear an old grandpa (roughly) sing the lines “She’s my little rock n’ roll / My tits and ass with soul.” 

Backup singer Chanel Haynes stole the show for a brief moment on her solo vocal run on “Gimme Shelter.” She strutted to the mic looking like she knew she was about to own the place and did just that. Her voice was so overpowering it threatened to swallow the song whole, and the only thing missing was the surprised “Woo!” from Mick Jagger in response to Merry Clayton’s take on the album cut.

The latter third of the set nearly matched the aforementioned McCartney in 2013 for its epic run of stone cold classics. “Sympathy for the Devil” and “Honky Tonk Women” showed why they are two of the Stones’ all-time best tunes. The intro to “Paint It Black” was as menacing as it was the first time I heard it; the dual-guitar buzzsaw attack of “Jumping Jack Flash” made it the hardest rocking song of the night. It was foundational rock n’ roll live and in the flesh, and it was excellent.

I was more exhausted than hyped up after the show, but that is more the fault of me being an old man in a slightly less older man’s clothing. The Rolling Stones were up to the task – as they mostly have been night in and night out across stadiums worldwide for 50 goddamn years – of entertaining a wide-reaching group of people for two hours. I may never see them again considering their advanced age and the fact that they play exclusively in stadiums now, so they probably won’t come back to Milwaukee or play in Green Bay. But if you have the chance to see them, I highly recommend not passing that opportunity up.