find #1-10
here.
11. ZEKE, Cocodrie, 1997. it was midnight and they just came on. "the most dangerous band alive" shredded every living thing within 5 feet of the stage. it was one of those, "thank god i live in san francisco" moments. loud hard fast punk rock at midnight with DP. pure mid-20s magic.
12. L7, Trocadero, 1997. ROCK ROCK ROCK ROCK. donita sparks... well, you know. she's the shit. also saw Sluts For Hire open. loved sluts. bought their cd. listened until it broke. looked 'em up on online to buy a new copy. found out "falling james" was their producer (?). he was previously married to ms. courtney love. my how things move in circles. we exchanged emails. he told me he would love to send me a new Sluts CD, but that would mean he'd have to dig through some shit. which means it probably won't happen. and that was that. fun exchange with COURTNEY LOVE'S EX-HUSBAND. later found the Sluts on limewire. or somewhere.
13. Green Day, Fillmore, December 16, 1997. my friend DP and i hadn't had much fun at shows lately. since the magazine we were writing for went under, we didn't have as much motivation to go out and see stuff. then green day hit the fillmore. we have to go, i told her. and we went. first time either of us saw them. they were so fun, as they always are. energetic, funny, engaged, loud and fast. all you really need in life right there in one band. i find inspiring the fact that bassist mike dirnt used to suffer from panic attacks, but learned to overcome them. the place was filled with teenagers. DP loves to ask questions of people, to engage. unlike me, i like disengagement better. she tortured the teenagers with her questions about which member they like best, what their favorite green day song is, where they go to school...always a great time seeing a show with DP, my favorite show partner for life. as much as i like to disengage, and she to engage, we work perfectly together on this platform. after the show, we walked towards her place in the marina. straight up fillmore and over the hill. as we reached the top where all the houses are the size of a city block, we found a sofa someone had left on the curb to be trashed. a nice sofa. green velvet. we decided to take a rest and ended up sitting on the sofa for an hour and a half, recounting the show, smoking pot, and laughing uproariously. what fun. i miss that.
14. Sonic Youth, Warfield, November 8, 1995. i lived across the street. it was the first time i went with my friend, DP's friend, who happened to be related to lee renaldo. good god, what luck! we had a great time at the show, bikini kill AND the Amps (kim deal) opened. they played two nights and i went both nights. but the first night with lee renaldo's relative was special. there were four of us in our little group, them and me and my little sister. the other one. she loved sonic youth long before me. in fact, she gave me a copy of Dirty the year before. it got me through long bus ride waits all winter. so anyway my friend's friend drew 3 backstage passes out of her pocket. there was a moment of silence. what followed was an unbelievable feeling i'll never forget. when the three passes were handed out, one to me, one to DP and one to lee renaldo's relative; i gave my pass to my sister. i was overwhelmed with the absolute knowledge that i must give her my pass and sit this one experience out. while they went behind the fat purple velvet rope, i went out front onto market street, where i tried to fold myself into a tiny alcove and become invisible, and enjoy some cigarettes. I was prepared to wait for them and propel unruly types from my feet. little did the guard know that i was a local. i was a few hundred feet from my front door. lucky for me what he saw was a young woman in a sweet dress. he saw a girl who might get hassled any minute. he worried about me. he walked over to see what i was up to, "oh just waiting for my friends who are backstage," i told him. "hmm" he said and walked away and then came back. "hey, your friends are backstage you said?" "yeah." "will they recognize you if i take you there?" "yeah!" and with that, he led me through a door right off market street, and down a very long, black hallway, and then down another two long black hallways. i had no idea even which way i was facing when he suddenly opened a door. i stepped in, and there were my friends and my sister hangin' out with thurston and lee and kim. FUCK! there was a little up and down as i entered the sanctum. i saw kim check out my vinyage orange velvet shift dress. i sat down with everyone and they continued their conversation. DP was chatting with lee. his relative m. was chatting with thurston. my sister was hanging right behind them. me? i was flushed straight into my chair, frozen in the completely surreal moment. DP handed me a magnet of a washing machine, the graphic from the album of the same name, with lee's and thurston's autographs on it. when i got home that night, across the street in my tenderloin loft, i threw the magnet on my art-destroyed cement floor and immediately sprayed fixative all over the front of it, so it will last forever. to this day, it's on my fridge, and the autographs in sharpie are as bright as ever. hey! that's another good commercial idea for sharpies!
15. Duran Duran, Oakland Coliseum Arena, April 13, 1984. The Contractions opened: this was my first concert ever. entries in my diary at this time read,"going to duran duran. i don't care if it costs me $50, i'm getting front row!"i love how i said things like this without having any idea how it all worked. my mom took me. we left early in the day and i was taken out of school. this was all extreme privilege and reward for getting an A- on my constitution test. i was 13 and in 8th grade. i almost never got positive reinforcement, so i know my mom did a lot of work to get me there. (i still thank her). my eyes were wide open all day, it was so intense. my young mind was blown wide open. thoughts like, "they're people and there's only one of them, and they're not anywhere else in the world, they're right in front of me."there was a lot of screaming from all the young girls in audience. my mom put her fingers in her ears and found she could still hear the music but not the screaming. i couldn't believe how huge the coliseumarena was. i'd never seen anything remotely like it. the people in the top row looked to be about 2" tall. i danced the entire show standing in my seat. so, so exciting. my bratty friends whose parents didn't care what they did, and who got a ride to the show with us, got mad at my mom because she wouldn't let them run down to the front. i was so happy to be there, i didn't care about the front anymore. i was mad at my friends because they weren't so happy to be there and they said mean things about my mom. teenagers are horrible people. the line we waited in was something i couldn't stop talking about."it was as wide as this room and longer than the eye could see!"i wore my favorite gray twill Triangle pants with leather bands at the cuffs and bought a t-shirt there (still have it), as well as a program. the show was sponsored by coca-cola. i can still see the insignia that was incorporated into the design of everything. it was a pivotal and profound night for little me. live music affected me unlike anything i had ever experienced. it made me happier than i'd ever been. it was a salve for my wrecked teenage nerves. for at least a year, i counted backwards in my head how long it had been since the show. "wow, two days ago at this time, simon le bon was right in front of me." "wow, two weeks ago at this time, simon le bon was right in front of me." "wow, two months ago at this time, simon le bon was right in front of me."after that night in 1984, pursuing live music became my full-time job. later in april of 1984, the Cinemax channel was introduced to the new "cable" invention, and featured a special movie made of Duran Duran's tour, shot mostly at the coliseum. in a most bizarre, lucky chain of events my dad, who never did anything fun, subscribed to cinemax and i got to see the movie. i taped it on our brand new top-loading VCR and watched it a million times. i memorized every simon dance move and entertained my mom by replicating the moves in the car as we drove along listening to Rio, or 7 or their first record. she was delighted and thought i was hilarious. seeing duran duran and live music in particular was the catalyst i'd been needing. i felt driven afterwards to take the right classes in high school so i could go to college and then see all the live music i ever wanted without anyone ever telling me i couldn't. and that's exactly what i did. 400 concerts (?) later...i'm 37 and still never miss a show by a band i like. no matter what. in fact, i emancipated myself from my parents when my dad flatly refused to let me see The Grateful Dead at Cal Expo in June of 1990. except for the butthole surfers at the greek in 1998, which i missed due to a family vacation. i still feel sad that i missed that show, vacation or not. especially since it was one of the last three they'd ever play here.
16. Duran Duran, Cal Expo, August 1986: i bought a whole new outfit for this show. i went with some sacramento friends. i was coming off a month-long summer gig designing candles for a family friend in a candle factory. i spent most of my candle money on brand new boots, which i wore with pale yellow baggy cp shades shorts and a peach-colored shaker knit gap vestover a tshirt. i remember being unsure of concert protocol: how does one dress? i always thoughtsort of like a rock star, but a friend of a friend totally dressed up. i didn't give her much cred though since she was from
sacramento."ew, they wear makeup." this was also the first show i ever tried to sneak into, and my third show ever. while waiting in line two funny things happened: 1. i sucked down an ammonia inhalant someone dared me to sniff and almost passed out 2. out of boredom, i left my friends to save my spot in line and snuck around the band area in the back and contemplated darting into the backstage area through a hole in the fence. i didn't do it. i wasn't that brave yet. But it paved the way for future sneaking-in. i dedicated myself to being in the front row for this show. i had never had a chance and actually wasn't all that attracted to it, but felt i must try it. like a drug i'd just learned about, i was ambivalent. but i did it for the experience. needless to say i was alone. sacramento friends would have nothing to do with what i was about to experience over the next several hours. in my knee-length cp shades shorts, white tshirt and gap shaker-knit vest, i entered the pit. and stayed all the way through the incredibly and super gay erasure and halfway through duran duran. i gave up when it was obvious, even to dehydrated me that i had accomplished what i set out for. i had swayed with the audience off my feet. i had seen short girls faint and
get passed forward. i had tilted my head back so that at six feet tall, i was able to barely get a whiff of the fresh air that hovered above the crowd like the opposite of smog. when i emerged from the crowd, pulling my legs out behind me as i had to nearly jump to safety, i laughed and laughed. my shorts were pulled down to my mid-calves. my shaker-knit vest was grazing my knees. everything had been stretched by heat and moisture, nothing was actually falling off. i decided that night that i would never see duran duran again. they were going political and i wasn't in to that. i didn't like the way simon le bon stood behind a podium and yelled at the audience. church damage. it was unattractive. i was done with the double ds.
17. UB40, San Diego, August 1988. was a brand new freshman living in the dorms. had no friends, but a nice roommate. we decided to go see UB40 at some big place that was pretty far away. had no idea. took a taxi. it was $30 each way. san diego was huge we were learning. wore good northern california clothes like the newbie i was: heavy rollneck sweater, long black pants and a black turtleneck. nearly suffocated in my own sweat. felt like an idiot. show was ok. i was only into Geoffrey Morgan, not a huge fan. first time out as an independent adult felt pretty good though. i was one week from turning 18.
18. The Melvins, small club in San Diego, 1989. the Melvins caused me great pain at this show. can't remember where it was, some small club in ocean beach. i have never heard something so loud in such a small space. it was weird. i was really surprised. i had to leave. there was a sharp pain stabbing my eardrums. i wouldn't have been surprised to see blood.
19. Man or Astroman?, Bimbos, July 15, 1996. a story that is nauseating to remember especially for a night that started out perfectly. my friend DP and i popped some ecstacy tabs and headed over to Broadway with her boyfriend as our coach. the show was so much fun. loud, fast, funny...great stage design too. old tvs were propped up on piles of cords, the onscreen fuzz pumped in time to the music. we laughed and laughed and laughed. fantastic time. when the show was over, we went outside. i was probably smoking cigarettes. i'm sure we were busy recounting our favorite songs, i know we were still really high. all of a sudden our attention was grabbed by a young girl who had just fallen over and puked on herself. we were shocked and stunned. the drug was making us super sensitive to her feelings/predicament/possible near-future of being taken advantage of. she was alone. we got her up and leaned her against a small tree, where she managed to stay standing, but not without significant sway and occasional attempts at speaking. she was so fucked up there was no way to even begin to guess what she had taken. it seemed like a lot of alcohol and very heavy pills. DP and i were very concerned. the ecstacy was not helping us stay city- distant and aloof. we asked her where she lived. "17th and 7th," she said, barely audible, barely intelligible. "17th and 7th. 17th and 7th." DP and i looked at each other, concerned. i considered myself extremely well-versed in city geography and i proclaimed with confidence that, "None of the number streets cross!" now, 12 years later, i know i was wrong and have never forgotten that i possibly sabotaged her well-being. we got a her a cab anyway, and put her in the backseat. the taxi drove off...and promptly returned in reverse and with vigor. the taxi door opened right where we were standing and a very pissed off cab driver got out, swearing, and pulled her out. he leaned her back up against the tree where we found her, swore about her puking in his cab, and was gone. it was getting late. what were we going to do with this poor girl who was totally vulnerable to the night? people weren't on the street so much, everyone had gone home. somewhat suspiciously we told the door guy about her and that she'd need help. he and another guy said they'd help. we didn't feel good about this, but we were waning and terribly bummed out. we had no car to put her in. there was nothing else we could do. it was so unexpected. it affected us profoundly. we still cringe if one of us says, "remember the girl at man or astroman?" ugh.
20. Berlin, Great America Theme Park (then called "Marriott's Great America), August 4, 1984. went with 2 girlfriends, one's little sister and their mom. hot hot hot day. rode roller coasters all day until the sun started to set. filed into amphitheatre. obnoxious band (?) opened up with guy singer who sang something about no money, no car, no girl. finally berlin came on. since this was only my 2nd concert ever, i was still in a state of shock to realize the immediacy and exclusivity of rock concerts. these people aren't anywhere else in the world!this is the only place in the world this is happening!!i loved the show. at 13 i was 5'9" and had no problem seeing the stage. i loved terri nunn (and her totally original hair color), and i loved that at the beginning she had such a positive message: "we called this album 'love life' because we love life!"yeah,my 13-yr-old heart soared, yeah.i guess i needed to hear this because life had never sucked as much for me as it did at age 13. at the end of the show, terri took all of her jewelry off and threw it into the audience. i caught her heart-shaped pinky ring with a quick hand high in the air. an older teenager in front of me whirled around and screamed, "BITCH!" i wonder if she was surprised to see a baby-faced girl instead of a woman? because of my height, i was always perceived as older. either way, i remember feeling shocked to my core. i'd never been called a bitch before. i still have the ring.
21. the strokes, Bill Graham Civic, October 31, 2002. first and only time i ever truly threw my neck out at a show from thrashing too hard. expected it to happen many times, but it only happened once and that was the strokes and the song was Take It Or Leave It. fortunately, it was also the last song. i'm pretty sure it made a noise when it snapped, although i'm also sure i couldn't possibly have been able to hear it. sometimes sound has a feeling like smell has a taste?
