About a year ago, the girl I was going out with at the time taught a kind of summer school for children aged about 5-10. At the end of the week, there was a kind of variety show in a very small theatre. I was obliged to go and see these kids who my girlfriend had been crafting into a well-oiled theatrical machine. The theatre was uncomfortably small. I could see the whites of the kids' eyes staring into the audience as they faltered and stumbled over their lines, fell over during the dance sections and sang hideously out of tune during the musical numbers.

In its own way, it was kind of cute. It was nice to get a glimpse at my girlfriend's interests which were so wildly different to my own. The show itself wasn't the bad thing. The bad thing was that I, a young man, was clearly too young to be the parent of any of these young starlets. I, who at that time looked a bit like a hobo, sat at the back, probably with a strange look on my face. The rest of the crowd, the parents, as they filed in to the small, cramped venue, looked at me oddly.

I realised early on that everyone sitting around me thought, for those two hours and presumably many more, that I was a paedophile, come to watch their children not out of duty or pride, but for perverted sexual gratification.

Nelly Furtado with sister
Not Good or Fun

The worst wasn't really all that bad...Sufjan Stevens at the Cat's Cradle in Chapel Hill with an ex-girlfriend. I bought the tickets for us, and she was a real fucking cunt when I was up there...I should've just told to shove it up her ass. That was the only really shitty concert experience.

Sufjan put on a really good, but kind of hokey show.

Many, many, many years ago, the woman I was living with in college made me go with her to see Stryper at Six Flags Over Texas (we were living in Arlington at the time, I went to school at UTA). This despite the fact that I listened to almost nothing at the time but Slayer, Celtic Frost, Metallica, Death, and other cheery bands with skulls and upside-down crosses on the cover and all that. Perhaps she thought I would "see the light" after seeing the band's majestic performance. The funny part was that they actually weren't half bad on stage -- their albums were (and are) horribly wimpy, but on stage they actually had some firepower going, especially the drummer. Too bad about the witless lyrics and squealy-girl vocal delivery, though.

And yes, they really stopped at one point to throw Bibles into the audience and witness for Christ. It was... um... peculiar, to say the least.

burun wrote: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.

That was one lucky boy...damn, I'm jealous.

my mum bought me and my boyfriend tickets to see jools holland play at birmingham town hall for my 15th birthday. kiki dee of 'don't go breaking my heart' fame supported him. it was all horrible. apart from when she sang the aforementioned song.

God, Kasabian. I politely excused myself due to the pain in my head from the awful triggered drums. She went off on me afterwards. I don't like anything, etc. That shit hurt, no joke. A lack of dynamics is astoundingly uncomfortable.