Arson Smith wrote:the fabulous Fox Theatre in Saint Louis

To veer wildly off-topic, this place is the site of the first live music show I ever went to see. It was B.B. King and Albert King. Albert was absolutely amazing...

Imagine, if you will, a 13-year-old with a mullet at the Fox Theatre surrounded by more unbelievable fur hats and suits than you can possibly picture. Oh, to be bitten by the white-boy blues bug (I got over it).

I also saw Orff's Carmina Burmana there. They had a 100-voice choir. I think I grew some viking horns...

Albert King. The Fox Theatre. Not Crap.

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Had to endure so far (though not under the same girl)

Pink Floyd
Dirty Dancing Soundtrack
Doors
Smashing Pumkins
Manic Street Preachers

dimpfelmoser wrote:Dirty Dancing Soundtrack
Doors

Can't say I've gone through this, as I was the one dragging other people to shows I wanted to go to. I'd lived in the suburbs without a car and would often solicit rides to shows from people who didn't care about that sort of thing; hence, I did not go to that many before about 1999 or so. I missed out on seeing Jawbox before they broke up, because someone flaked on me (maybe he was getting me back for me making us drive an hour to Dayton on a night before he had an 8am class to see the Poster Children), but I'm not bitter.

But I digress--I took a girlfriend to see Branch Manager, who were a short-lived Dischord band from the 90's. She liked lots of music, some good, some bad, so she was amenable to it, but dank punk clubs weren't exactly her element, so I felt a little awkward taking her. But she liked it fine I guess. Or hated it and put on a happy face, I don't know, whatever.

I promise to never ever take a boy to see Ani DiFranco, Dave Matthews or Smashing Pumpkins. I can assure of that.

I dragged a boy to see Wire (supported by Pan_Sonic.) I used his love of Pan_Sonic to ease the blow of Wire, who he had never heard before - though he was a fan of Gang of Four, so he was not averse to angular rock.

He loved them.

I also took him to see Jimmy Webb/Glenn Campbell about a week later.

As a teenager I once had a summer fling with this sweet, spacey heavy metal guy. At the time I was listening to punk rock and new wave and other mid-80's alternative rock. We spent the sumer together commiserating because we were both madly in love with other people. We would hang out and drink and have fun making each other laugh and always ended up making out.

Once I dragged him to a Soul Asylum show during the Made To Be Broken tour. They used to put on a good show back then. As we were leaving the concert he turned to me and said, "Insane Asylum weren't too bad."

In my first year at university I went on a sort-of date to see the Icicle Works. (hey, it was the late 80's, and I was young and drinking a lot of Kestrel Super)

This would have probably been tolerable, but a) this girl was 4'11" (and I'm 6'7") and b) I'd spent the afternoon getting stoned with a friend from back home. Being barely capable of speech made the pre-gig, sort-of-date stuff kind of awkward, so much so that when band were on, and I realised that she could maybe see the lighting rig and below that , only the backs of Icicle Works fans, I started to feel enormously guilty, as I could see the band in all their, ahem, glory. Even in my stupor, I knew I had to do something to sort this out.

Did I stick her on my shoulders, rock-show style? Did I suggest we ditch the gig and go somewhere else? Somewhere more conducive?

No, in my spliffdom, I decided the best thing to do would be to bend my knees until I too was struggling to see the band, occasionally turning to her and giving her glassy-eyed "bummer, eh?" looks.

Classy, eh? I always had the moves - even back then. Romance runs through my very core, like the lettering on a stick of rock.

I saw Bobby Blue Bland and BB King in DC in the early nineties, and the crowd was decked out in fur as well. What's with the fur?

Dudley wrote:In my first year at university I went on a sort-of date to see the Icicle Works. (hey, it was the late 80's, and I was young and drinking a lot of Kestrel Super)

This would have probably been tolerable, but a) this girl was 4'11" (and I'm 6'7") and b) I'd spent the afternoon getting stoned with a friend from back home. Being barely capable of speech made the pre-gig, sort-of-date stuff kind of awkward, so much so that when band were on, and I realised that she could maybe see the lighting rig and below that , only the backs of Icicle Works fans, I started to feel enormously guilty, as I could see the band in all their, ahem, glory. Even in my stupor, I knew I had to do something to sort this out.

Did I stick her on my shoulders, rock-show style? Did I suggest we ditch the gig and go somewhere else? Somewhere more conducive?

No, in my spliffdom, I decided the best thing to do would be to bend my knees until I too was struggling to see the band, occasionally turning to her and giving her glassy-eyed "bummer, eh?" looks.

Classy, eh? I always had the moves - even back then. Romance runs through my very core, like the lettering on a stick of rock.

This post either restores my faith in, or confirms everything I had always suspected about humanity.

Dudley, you're my new hero, and not just 'cause you're a City fan.

As for bad shows... I one time got dragged to see a show, the main act whom I can't remember, because one of the supporting bands was Carter USM, and they were so astoundingly awful that for the rest of the evening I was in a state of trauma. It was truly horrendous.