All Those Screaming Fans at the Brad Paisley Concert

I'm showing my age...or perhaps not.

This past weekend I attended the Brad Paisley concert at the Comcast Center in Mansfield, MA and admittedly had a great time.  I do get to a few music performances of varying genres each year.  In the past year there have been the Celtic Woman, St. Louis Symphony, Organ and Choral concert at Harvard, The Stray Cats, Foghat and Montgomery Gentry.  The other "pop" concerts were either in tiny venues or at the track--both of which have an older demographic.  This applies out of hand to the classical performances as well.

I tend to thoroughly enjoy concerts and am generally the one singing along--even the choral works.  There was a moment of either mortification or serendipity at the Foghat show when I appeared on the jumbo-tron.  Yep--that was me bouncing around on the track.

So you might understand when I say I was more than disappointed that the Stray Cats show elicited a rather sedate reaction from the crowd.  Everyone so nicely sat down and nodded to the strumming of the string bass.  So help me, where did their sense of party go?

Thus, after a 20-year hiatus since I bought a "big" concert ticket, my Brad Paisley experience drew me back to the days when...

In my immediate world, it seems to me that I am the predominant Country Music demographic in the Northeast--somewhere over 35 middle America.  When we pulled into the parking lot at the Comcast Center I was shocked to witness an apparent explosion of all the local college campuses decked out in cowboy boots and hats.  When had I missed the youth invasion?  Ah well, I was here to have fun, too.  And the young 'uns didn't disappoint. 

Yes, Brad Paisley earned my hard won money with his heart-warming lyrics, sharp comic wit and devastating guitar playing ability.  But how can one person stand on that vast stage for 90 minutes and get the crowd involved?  Oh yeah, that's right.  When you're 21, with your friends and at a concert you will make noise.

Song after song after song 15,000 voices rose together and hooted, hollered and sang. 

It's a joyous sound--one that resonates through your heart. And this huge crowd reaction is what I hold dear in my fading memories of summers spent dancing to the Beach Boys, Paul Simon, the Doobie Brothers, Gloria Estefan...those were the days.  But yes, I got up and sang with the guy on my left and the girl on my right.  For a couple hours it just doesn't matter who has the formal training--only that you share your love of music with those around you.

I could run a line by line review of all I saw and heard on Sunday night--but it won't be solely Mr. Paisley's performance that will stick with me through the years and encourage me to click on those tickets again.  It's the chance to involve myself with the rest of humanity for a happy interlude that is the real reason that I'll never be too old to join the youth in rockin' out on a hot summer night.

The Stray Cat Lee Rocker

A tiny venue, the Tupelo Music Hall in Londonderry, NH.  It seats around 240.  I'd say about 50 people actually sat in the hardback chairs edged right up to the tiny stage.  But sometimes bigger is not always better.

When the Stray Cats hit the charts in the early '80's, I was an easily swayed not quite teenager who was won over by songs of teenage arrogance.  Ah, come on.  That's what they were.  Fast cars, fast women and rockin' music.  What made it different from the rest of the Top 40?  That string slappin' bass.  The Cats resurrected rock-a-billy, redesigning the world's love affair with twang and pop.  I bought into it then.

I was resold tonight.  None of us in that hall were teenagers any more.  But watching Lee Rocker play his bass, I rediscovered a little bit of that teenage awe.  Perhaps for different reasons...

I saw a musician love his instrument.  The four band members all had a wonderful time, still egging one another on to greater, faster heights as they explored the evening's riffs.  I listened to a voice a little mellower with age, but still very fun to hear.  The Stray Cats always wrote lyrics with more than a bit of tongue in cheek, and witnessing a bit of bantering on stage, there's a greater appreciation of where those tunes came from.

I bought the mp3 of the old album, and I can hear the youth in the studio tracks.  But Lee Rocker and his band have not lost that joy--the spark that brought them Grammy nominations and millions of record sales.

So, yes, The Stray Cat Lee Rocker can still deliver an awesome set.  The crowd leapt to their feet for the final songs.  Applause resounded amongst the rafters.

When we sat down three rows and about five feet from the stage, I leaned over and whispered, "That's got to be a good indication.  No chicken wire."

I'm glad to say, I was right.  Sometimes you don't need to visit a venue that seats thousands to find a night filled with killer talent.  Sometimes you only need to find a renovated barn.

http://www.leerocker.com/