Concert Diaries Chapter 31 ~ So Much Magic

It's the end of the Andy Grammer/Gavin DeGraw tour.  These bands outdid any previous performance I'd seen of them (and I've seen a lot).  I can't help but look back on the experiences of the last few months and relive some of the magic.

We (my PIC, Phyllis, and I) started calling October the magic month.  I often say I'm geographically blessed when it comes to concert attendance.  Northern New Jersey is less than an hour from New York, less than three hours from Philadelphia, five hours from Boston ... we can be anywhere in less than a day's drive.  Whomever booked the Andy Grammer/Gavin DeGraw tour scheduled so many shows within easy driving ... and we went to them all including some bonus magic at the end.

Why would I attend so many concerts by the same artist?  It's hard to explain.  If you know, you know.  For me, it's because he changed my life and when I'm in the same room as he, whether he's the opening act or headlining, I'm the most fully alive that I think I've ever been.  I feel things again.  I'm clear about myself.  I feel strong and confident and profoundly happy and all the stress of my "real" life tumbles away--not just for the hour of the show, but for days and weeks at a time.

And no, the shows aren't all the same.  There are always surprises, on and off the stage.  Because of the magic.

Even though October held the most magic, our story began in August with the opening night of the "DeGrammer" tour, in Bethel, New York.  The site of the original Woodstock Festival proved to be the perfect place to start the magic.  I was captivated by the Woodstock museum on the property and could have spent the entire day there remembering the music of that time and wondering at the extensive influence the event had for years after the festival.  I was haunted in a romantic way by the ghosts of the space we were in since I'm old enough remember Woodstock and the history of the place was not lost on me.


Both Gavin (born nearby) and Andy (raised nearby) had lots of stories and memories to share (or overshare).  They had lots of family and friends in attendance and the night felt very special with those ghosts and memories filling the air.  The set lists of both artists were a fan's dream come true and Gavin's inclusion of a short acoustic interlude was a perfect surprise.



Our next show was in Shelbeyville, Delaware on the Maryland border.  We had a relaxing drive down while listening to dreadful weather reports which, unfortunately were accurate.  After spending the night in Ocean City, we learned the outdoor concert was cancelled due to Hurricane Hermine.  We drove out of the area in high winds and rain but soon found ourselves under magical blue skies, looking forward to October.  Even a cancelled show can be part of the adventure, the memories, the magic.

Gavin and Andy donuts from Broad
 Street Dough Co. in Oakhurst

Reading came next, the first of the magic October shows.  We started this adventure by driving a couple hours out of our way to pick up donuts for the band.  Specially made to order, they were rather outrageous confections that I doubted our health conscious guys would indulge in but it was fun to deliver them.  We arrived in town, starving, and headed to the only place we knew of near the theatre, Mezcal's Restaurant. We'd been there for drinks the last time Gavin played in Reading.  Much to our surprise, when the waitress led us to a table right beside where members of Gavin's and Andy's bands were sitting.  I teased them about being in "our" restaurant and we chatted for a bit before turning to our menus.  We wished them an awesome show as they left.  We had a meet and greet with Gavin that night.  We climbed to the top of the old theater with my arthritis protesting each stair.  It was as thrilling to meet him again as it was the first time.  We had a lot of fun delivering the overloaded donuts and explaining that they were named for him and Andy.  We took several pictures and I could have talked for an hour.   The Reading show was truly fantastic.  It was our first show with Wrabel who was opening most of the nights on this tour.  He was lovely, talented, authentic and his songs were poetry.  Both Andy's and Gavin's sets were as exciting as they had been opening night.

Right after Reading, Phyllis received the email.  The magic email telling her that she'd won a trip to Las Vegas to see Gavin DeGraw in concert complete with a VIP meeting.  Even more magic for me when she invited me to go with her.  There were lots of details to be ironed out, paperwork she needed to complete and it would be a few days before the trip would be really confirmed.  We began to make plans.  Plans on top of the plans we already had.

A few days after the magic of Reading and prize-winning emails,

Kelly Ripa & Carrie Ann Inaba
greeting Andy after his
performance.

we took a sunrise train to New York.  It was a full day of fun with our bands.  We'd had tickets to The Kelly Show, betting that either Gavin or Andy would make an appearance, finding out later it would be Andy Grammer and his band on the show that day.  Gavin was appearing on the show in a second taping to be aired the next day.  We had to be up near Columbus Circle at the ABC studios before 7:30.  That was the first hour+ spent in lines that day.  The show was fun and Andy's performance was indicative of all his live performances--high energy, infectious and authentic.  Once the cameras were off, the infamous producer, Michael Gellman, said there were seats available for the next show.  Of course we ran around the side of the building and got in line and were ushered into the studio again.  Unfortunately, Gavin cancelled at the last minute and did not appear.  We didn't know it at the time, but he wasn't feeling well.  We would learn more about that in the days ahead.

The concert that night at the Hammerstein Ballroom was exciting.  The sold-out crowd was a little pushy and we weren't in the front row (second row fabulous that night) but the kind front row nurses (they were all nurses) that we became friends with made room for this arthritic older fan and I leaned on the barricade for the last half of the show.  Gavin surprised the crowd by added another new song from the latest album to the setlist:  You Make My Heart Sing Louder.  He told us it was his mom's favorite and dedicated his performance of it to her.  Her love beamed back at him from where she stood in the balcony.  Lots of our old friends were in attendance that night and we became fast friends with new people as well.  As I've mentioned many times in this space, this is one of the magical benefits of following this singer--the friends I've made ... both in person and in social media.  The concert that night was another beautiful example of the excitement and energy the filled the stage every night of this tour.

Thanking service men & women.

Wrabel

The next day I was off to Boston to visit my daughter in her new apartment and to show my mom where her granddaughter lives and works.  Knowing she wouldn't have two days off in a row, I bought a ticket to see the Boston stop of the tour.  In the ancient Orpheum Theater I had my second meet and greet, met Andy's bass player Zach Rudolph and saw my fourth show of the tour.  I saw lots of friends scattered around the room.  The old theatre's rows were tight and the seats held together with duct tape in some cases.  I wondered about all the artists who'd appeared there over the years.  My fourth row seat was as close as first row in some theaters.  One magical moment occurred when Andy Grammer snuck onto the stage where opener Stephen Wrabel was laying his whole heart as he always does.  He actually admonished the audience to be quiet for Stephen's last song, a beautiful new ballad destined for his next record.  Andy said he wanted to be able to hear a pin drop.  Thank you Andy!  It's hard to understand how and why people talk through the openers.  There were quite a few enlisted men and women and veterans in the audience that night.  An amazing authentic moment of these shows has been Gavin's recognizing of these men and women and thanking them publicly for their service.

The day after the Boston getaway, Phyllis arrived for what we had thought would be the rest of the October shows ... Sayreville and Morristown in New Jersey and finally, Philadelphia.

High energy from the Andy Grammer crew.

Front row for Gavin.

The Starland Ballroom is one of my least favorite venues, it's tight and people get pushy.  It was a general admission show so we arrived early.  Really early.  But we had parking pass tickets which meant we'd get in early, after the VIP ticket holders.  My favorite radio station, WPLJ, showed up with snacks for the fans in line.  I'd wound up with an extra ticket for the show (long story) so another concert friend of mine joined us and by some miracle, we wound up front row in front of bassist, James Cruz and drummer, Mike Baker.  We were enchanted with Wrabel once again.  Andy Grammer was amazing as always.  He invited each of his band members to take solos during "You Can Do This."  They, and we, were totally surprised.  By now I'd heard his new song (as yet unrecorded) enough times to remember a lot of the words.  It's a stunningly beautiful song about sharing your authentic self with the important people in your life ... all of yourself, not just the comfy, cozy parts.  It brings me to tears every time.

Post show.

Gavin delivered his usual heartfelt performance with funny stories.  One of the most magical moments of our night at Starland was the impromptu duet of Gavin and a friend of his from his early days when he performed in bars and clubs in New York.  John Breedlove joined him on stage and they sang Sam Cooke's A Change is Going to Come. It was a very special moment.   One of the truly unique things about Gavin is how willing he is to share the stage with other people.  His kindness and generosity are unfailing. He was genuinely thrilled to see his old friend and was enthusiastic in his introduction.  Later, in the parking lot, we had the opportunity to speak to John for a few moments.  He confirmed what we've always known:  that Gavin is as loving and loyal in real life as he comes across on stage.  After the show, he came down and greeted fans and took pictures.  More magic.

I was so looking forward to the Morristown show.  I grew up in Morristown and was excited for my favorite band to be in my favorite town in a theater where I watched movies in high school.  I will confess we could have slept in, taken it slow since it was a seated show and no early lining up was necessary but we actually went to town for lunch and spent time in the park (more properly, "The Green" if you're from these parts) as the day was really beautiful and we thought our favorite guys might be out and about.  They weren't and in fact, Gavin's bus was no where to be seen.  Andy Grammer tweeted that he'd hidden tickets somewhere outside the theater so since no one else was looking for them, we did.  Phyllis found them but our seats were better so she taped them back into the hiding place.  They were still there after the show.  Apparently no one in Morristown is on Twitter besides me.  That was the night we heard Gavin was ill with a really bad upper respiratory infection.  We watched as his bus pulled in without much time to spare.  Stephen Wrabel was out on the sidewalk doing Facebook Live.  We waited a few minutes and then struck up a conversation. It was nice to be able to tell him how much we enjoyed getting to know him and his music.  We took some pictures and then it was time to go inside.

Phyllis takes a selfie with Greg.

Our seats were in the 7th row, good but not great, on the guitar and keys side for a change.  That was also the night that hardly anyone stood and no one danced.  I wrote a separate story about that here.  That was the time that although I was in row 7, it felt like front row--a different sort of magic.  Between the sets, we spoke with Andy's guitarist, Greg Karas for a few minutes.  I asked him how they keep up the pace, with very few days off on this tour.  He replied, "we were born to do this."  I believe him.

A heartfelt hug for a blast from the past.

You'd never have known Gavin was ill (until the end of the show when he didn't perform his usual encores).  He was charming and energetic and sang his heart out as well as any other time I'd heard him.  At one point a woman approached the stage with her phone in the air.  I wondered where security was as she walked right up to the stage where he was telling a story.  It turned out she'd gone to summer camp with him when they were 11 years old.  They been at the same bus stop together all summer.  Big hugs ensued as we witnessed the mini reunion.  It was a magical moment.

The next day we were off to Philadelphia--early since we had to stand in line.  Despite the date (mid October), it was 80 degrees so the five hours we waited, chatting with the folks we were in line with were hot and steamy.  The Fillmore is a unique venue with rusty old gates out front and a very modern vibe inside. Somehow we got separated while we were checking in.  I wound up in the front row at the end of the stage but Phyllis and our friend, Rebecca, wound up towards the middle near the front.  I need that rail, especially after so many late nights, long lines and hours of dancing.  I could hear my knees protesting loudly.  We loved this show too.  It was fun to see looks of recognition from many of the guys in the band. After the show, when he came down to greet fans, Gavin asked me if I'd had a good time that night (of course!!) and I asked him how he was feeling.  He was still pretty sick, he said (actually he said "I feel like crap.")  Again, you'd never have known.  If it's possible to admire him more, I do.  Powering through those shows was probably difficult.  I have had some experience with respiratory infections.  I have no idea how he was singing through the pain of whatever was plaguing his lungs but he did.  (Later we'd learn he'd contracted walking pneumonia.  Towards the end of the tour he was so sick, he did have to cancel a couple of shows which must have been a very hard decision for him to make.)

Curtain call at the Fillmore.

The next day it was back to work in the hazy dream-like state of concert high.  Make that multiple concert highs.  We'd thought our adventure would end in Philadelphia but the best magic was yet to take place--in Las Vegas.  But that's a separate story.  If you're curious, you can read it here.

Our fall adventures were filled to the brim with our favorite music, chance meetings with some of our favorite artists, scheduled meetings with Gavin, renewing friendships and making new ones at every show with hugs and smiles and stories and photos.  I had filled my tank with the energy that only comes from these experiences and the magic that accompanies them.  Nearly a month later, the concert high lingers, the happiness permeates most every minute* and since there is another concert to come in December, there is more magic to come.

*the election results notwithstanding ...

Concert Diaries Chapter 30 ~ That Time We Won in Vegas

October was the magic month.  I'd planned my vacation around a bunch of Gavin DeGraw's northeastern tour stops.  There were lots of late nights, early afternoons standing in General Admission lines, meet-ups with old friends, new friends made and miles and miles on the Fiesta (better known as "the skate" ...)  Each show had it's own special magic but tonight I'm taking my memories out of order.  The Northeast shows happened first but they're for another chapter.  Tonight I'm thinking back to one week ago ... the magic night I found myself in Las Vegas.

We'd (Phyllis and I) already been to one show (actually two, counting Bethel Woods back in August) when the magic doubled down.   This is how it began: 

There was an email ... Phyllis was the "potential" winner.  We don't win things so it wasn't totally clear what a "potential" winner was.










The contest involved making a donation to a charity, Make Room USA,  which I later found out works on an issue near and dear to my heart:  low cost and affordable housing.

We started planning even though we weren't sure she'd actually won.  Just in case there really was magic at work.




Excited is an understatement.


I, of course, throttled back because that's what I do.  I convinced myself that Phyllis was in a "pool" of "potential winners."  That way we wouldn't be too disappointed when the truth came out.

There was paperwork to be filled out and notarized.  Apparently that's what happens when you win more than $10 on a scratch off ticket.

We started to dream a little.









Dreaming sometimes involves a little wine.  We had no idea how things like this work.  We didn't know when they'd notify her.  I started to get nervous.













My nerves get rattled on a lot of levels but finances is always one of them.  I'm a paycheck to paycheck type of girl.  The prospect of a weekend in Vegas, as amazing as that sounded started making me wonder how I'd get through it, money-wise.  The subtitle of this adventure began to be known as "Two Broke Girls do Vegas."  We vowed we'd figure it out.

It may have involved ramen (which I didn't even do in college.)










The email finally arrived declaring Phyllis the official winner.  We were going to Las Vegas to see Gavin DeGraw in concert at The Cosmopolitan Resort.  We finally allowed ourselves to become 100% excited.

This news arrived on top of the concerts we were already attending in October.  Our concert karma was having a major boost.

The details began to be revealed.  We would fly to Vegas on Friday.  A car would meet us at the airport and take us to The Aria, the resort where we would stay. A car would pick us up the next day to take us around the corner to the Cosmopolitan to meet our host for the night.  We would all go to Gavin's meet and greet for pictures.  We had VIP entry to the show.

I was overwhelmed with all this news.  Thank goodness we were on vacation.  Processing our good luck took a couple of days and we were still in the throes of our original plan which had seemed amazing in and of itself due to the amount of times the tour stopped within driving distance of us.  (See the next chapter.)  October truly was the magic month.

First glimpse of Las Vegas.

I worked half a day on Friday and raced home to finish packing.  We took a cab to the airport and boarded the overbooked plane for the 5 1/2-hour flight to Las Vegas.  We were met by a kind and informative driver who got our adventure started by pointing out everything we were seeing on the way to the resort.  Once at The Aria we got in line to check in ... only to be told we'd stood in the wrong line.  The check in for the "tower suites" where we were staying was behind a "magic" set of doors on the other side of the lobby.  We pressed the button and the doors parted to reveal a small lobby where we registered and received the key.  Off to the 32nd floor we went, swiped the card to the lock and entered our suite.  The Vegas magic continued when the drapes parted to reveal the nighttime view, both up and down, the glittering "strip" of resorts and casinos, restaurants, bars and clubs.  In fact, the drapes were automatically parting in all three rooms of the suite.  The views were gorgeous.  We were starving though so once we'd marveled at the luxury that was ours for two whole days, we went in search of (cheap) food.  We found luscious cheeseburgers on the first floor of the casino which we brought back upstairs.  As it turned out, I was too excited to eat much.  Once settled in for the night, I lay in bed looking at the blinking lights of the city and wondering how in the world I'd arrived there.  I turned out the light to get some sleep and the magic drapes snaked their way around the corner windows, shutting out the view and urging me to close my eyes.

Good morning Vegas!

In the morning I searched for the magic that controlled the curtains.  When I found it, I pressed a couple of buttons and the drapes parted again to reveal sunrise in Las Vegas.  Still on East Coast time, it was early.  The sun was just inching over the mountains that surround the city on all sides.  We'd not noticed the mountains in the darkness of the night before.  It was a stunning view and we were high enough and somewhat behind "the strip" so we could see for miles, unobstructed, in each direction.  Directly across from us (our windows revealed three sides) was The Cosmopolitan, our evening destination.  We wondered why they were sending a car.

We enjoyed exploring a bit of Las Vegas in the little time we had available to us.  The Aria is a beautiful resort and casino with an equally beautiful shopping mall attached to it.  Two broke girls don't shop in stores with more diamonds than you can imagine but we had fun looking.  A monorail took us to the neighboring Bellagio where we photographed the floral displays in the conservatory and the views outside overlooking their lake.  We strolled the plaza outside of Caesar's and crossed the street for coffee and wandered past Paris.  We checked out The Cosmopolitan on our way back to The Aria to get ready.

The car collected us right on time at 5:15 but the amount of traffic and construction made the trip around the block a long ride.  Once at The Cosmopolitan we found our host for the first part of the evening, Todd Krim.  Todd works to put celebrities, in this case, Gavin, together with charities where they can help the organization promote its message and perhaps raise some money (as with the contest Phyllis had entered) as well as awareness.  He was lovely to talk to and I was really impressed with how much good both he and a friend of his who joined us do for the charities they represent.  He, in turn, seemed impressed by the depth of our devotion to Gavin who he'd met a number of times before.  For us, seeing Gavin in concert isn't a casual, occasional thing.  It's a big part of our lives.  We all got in line for the meet and greet.  I felt my nerves kicking in the way they always do anytime I'm going to meet Gavin.  He and his music have meant to much to me since I found him.  I'm convinced I'd still be living in a time tunnel of some sort, stuck in one place caught between wondering who I really was after single motherhood and whether there is life after for a single mom once her kids have grown.

The meet and greet was a quick one ... when you win a meet and greet, you're not given the same amount of time as those who pay for it.  We'd had paid meet and greets and quick moments after some of the shows on this tour already (again, stories for another chapter) but it was still lovely to have the opportunity to say hello once again.  It always is.  I wish I could someday get relaxed to the point of not feeling frozen in his presence but I doubt that day will ever come.

Since we were at the end of the meet and greet line, we weren't sure we'd be able to find spots up front.  But, a few of our friends had saved us spots right on the rail in our favorite location (we like bass players and drummers).  Our "tribe" looks out for one another and we help each other whenever we can.  This collateral benefit of having instant family and friends wherever you go isn't a trivial one.  I'm so grateful to Gavin for all the dozens of people he's brought into my life.  There were a lot of us in Vegas.

The concert was amazing as had been every show on this tour.  Andy Grammer and Gavin are a winning combination but the addition of Stephen Wrabel as the supporting performer was icing on the cake.  He's a sweet, endearing soul with a raw authenticity that shines through the beautiful songs he crafts and offers like poetic gems to his audience.  He'd never toured before and hasn't yet released his first album (coming soon).  It was his last night opening for this tour even though there are more tour stops before it's over.  Andy Grammer is known for pranking his tour mates.  Before Wrabel's  last number he bounded out onto the stage.  "You were the baby of this tour," he said, handing him a baby costume with goofy props.  Stephen was a good sport, donning the ridiculous outfit and proceeding to end his set with his most heart-wrenching song that brings me to tears every time I hear it.

Andy Grammer's set was as energetic and entertaining as it always is.  Andy's ability to light up the stage with the force of his positive personality, the camaraderie of his band, the exhilaration of his music ... it overwhelms me with joy every time.  I'd been to 7 shows on this tour and Phyllis, 6.  You'd suppose that we'd be bored or tired of it.  But nothing could be further from the truth.  This band lifts you up with their exuberance.  By the end of their set whatever baggage you'd carried into the room, has long since bounced off your back and tumbled away.  This is how Andy describes what goes on:  A concert is like an emotional chiropractic experience.  He says " ... if he and Gavin have done their job right, you leave feeling as though you've been emotionally adjusted."  It's the best description of what happens during a live music event ever.  And it's particularly apt for this tour.

When Gavin's set finally begins, I feel my pulse syncing up with the bass and drums the way it always does.  I breathe when he breathes.  My eyes close and the flood of music that washes over me takes me away from myself ... from paycheck to paycheck worries, from Department of Education reports and deadlines, from self doubt and guilt and the plague of stress that seems to accompany me every day.  The old songs are, by now, familiar best friends.  The new songs, particularly, the album's title track, Something Worth Saving, almost brings me to my knees ... both because it's an unspeakably beautiful song and because I wonder why there was nothing worth saving 18 years ago when my husband left.  Gavin's shows have an exciting arc.  He starts with big songs, takes it down a notch, grows it again, arcing higher each time until you feel as though you may burst.  The genius of this tour is the acoustic interlude in the middle which concludes with his personally thanking whatever service people are in the audience while individually acknowledging them, before singing his beautiful anthem, Soldier.  The set progresses until his encore, the current radio single, She Sets the City on Fire.  Several times on this tour we've been treated to a second encore:  Hey Jude.  Joined on stage by Andy Grammer and his band, it's a awesome ending to a perfect night.  Gavin's stories, his humor and his gorgeous raw silky voice have transported me to a place that is now so familiar yet always exciting as it was the first time (July, 2012, Big Flats, New York).

This night is magical though.  We are two Cinderellas at the ball at The Cosmopolitan in glittering Las Vegas.  We're still not sure how we got there but we're thrilled beyond measure to be standing, applauding and returning the love that has just flooded over us from the stage.  There are lots of our tribe here tonight.  A group photo is a must but the casino is crowded and it's hard to find a spot where we fit.  We find it on the second floor in front of an oversized crystal chandelier.  We decide we should eat since we're all starving but Phyllis and I are still on East Coast time having not had enough time to adjust to Pacific Time.  We give in to our fatigue and head back to our hotel through The Cosmopolitan one last time.  We stop in the lobby bar for a really quick drink with a friend.  We see Gavin and some of his band in the company of friends headed off, presumably, for dinner.  We aren't stalkers.  We don't follow.  We all respect him to much to intrude on his down time.

Back at The Aria we bring those same cheap cheeseburgers upstairs with us again.  It's past 1AM but this, too, feels familiar.  The number of late-night meals I've shared with friends following a Gavin concert are innumerable.  Phyllis and I relive the night and consider how lucky we are for the thousandth time that weekend.  Sleep is always an afterthought on these adventures but eventually the curtains drew themselves shut for a few hours on this day too.  It's been a whirlwind with one special memory rapidly following the one before it.

Check out isn't until 11 and our car doesn't come for us until 1 so we had time for a leisurely breakfast in the gorgeous cafe that pays homage to the Mohave desert that surrounds the city with its rocks and cactus gardens.  Our bags are packed but we're not ready to go.  It would be nice to stay in our magic dreamy bubble forever but it's time to check out.  Checking out is so easily done on line these days.  We looked over the bill (which was all taken care of thanks to Make Room USA) and confirmed we were checking out.  As though magically cued, the television turned itself off, the lights extinguished and the drapes rolled closed.  It was the literal final curtain on our magical weekend.  In the pitch dark of the room, like Cinderellas realizing their coach had turned into a pumpkin, we dissolved into peals of laughter while feeling for our bags and making our way to the elevator.  The magic was powerful but now it was showing us the way home.

I owe this special memory to my friend and PIC, Phyllis, who invited me to share in her good fortune.  We started out as concert companions but we're truly sisters now.  We've made a lot of memories together over the last few years and this one will be hard to top.  We both continue to be grateful to Make Room USA for having the contest that brought us to Las Vegas in the first place.  I hope the contest brought them as great a reward as it brought us.  I hope that those of you who stumbled on this chapter of my space here on the interwebs (bless you for reading this far ... I'm a rambler) will click the link and learn about their awesome efforts to advocate for affordable housing.

So ... we went to Las Vegas and didn't put so much as a dime in a slot machine.  But we were still winners.  We met people doing really meaningful work to help others, we met many of our west coast friends in person at last, we participated in the extraordinary live music the means the world to us, we lived the life of Cinderella for two days.  It was magic.

~~~~~~~~~~

Andy Grammer's new song:  The Good Parts
This song is an amazing tribute to relationships that go deep and stand the test of time.  I think this is Andy at his most revealing.  The place where his voice breaks a little makes me love this song even more.

Gavin DeGraw, Something Worth Saving
(Video courtesy of mad4hatter13.  xo, my friend!)

Finale ~ Hey Jude
An exhilarating way to end the perfect night of music.

Concert Diaries Chapter 29 ~ "I'm Sorry, I Can't"

Someone was tapping me on the shoulder.  I turned away from the stage, knowing full well what to expect.

"Could you please sit down?" she said.  She was older than me which was surprising because at a Gavin DeGraw concert, I'm often one of the older people in the room.  She was with her husband, a rather morose looking fellow who was clearly not having a good time.

This was the Morristown, New Jersey, stop of the Andy Grammer/Gavin DeGraw tour.  We were at MPAC--the Morristown Performing Arts Center (the former Community Theater when I was growing up here).  It was about 6 weeks into their tour and my 5th show thus far on the tour.  So you'd think I'd seen it all, heard it all and it wouldn't be as exciting, wouldn't you?  But you're wrong.  Every show is like a new show, even though their set lists don't change much.  Why I see Gavin as often as I  do is a story for another time, however.  Tonight, as I'm looking forward to my 7th show of this tour, I'm thinking about why I still can't sit.

She was clearly unhappy with me.  "I can't see," she said.  "Could you please sit down?"

"No," I said, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I just can't."

I'm sure she thought I meant I wouldn't sit down.  But I actually meant it the way I said it.  I was unable to sit down.

To be sure, we'd all been sitting for the lovely and talented opening act, Wrabel.  But his music is so introspective, quiet, in a way (not quiet-sounding; he delivers with passion), I understand why at seated theater shows, people remain seated during his set.  And unfortunately, as with most opening acts, the audience hasn't completely arrived yet (much to my amazement always).

But when the energetic, animated band that supports Andy Grammer hits the stage with their hard driving introduction in advance of his entrance, people leap to their feet.  They always do, everywhere I've been, any time I've seen him.  Not just on this particular tour.  But not in Morristown, though, on that night.  I slid to the edge of my seat, my legs itching to get me up.  I looked around.  There were two people in the front row standing.  They are huge Andy Grammer fans whom we'd run into several times in the last few weeks.  Seeing them, I slid farther to the edge.  A couple more people got up.  That was all the company I needed.  I was on my feet and involved with the dynamic show that was happening live with only 6 rows between them and me.

Why are they sitting?

I couldn't sit down.  Their energy is so infectious.  Andy and his band cover the stage.  They dance (as in choreographed, synchronized dancing).  They sing--boy, can they sing.  They all play multiple instruments.  It's as live as live music gets.  I could not understand why this audience wasn't on their feet.  They weren't even moving ... no hands clapping, no heads nodding.  I mean, if you're going to sit, at least show some signs of life!

Then Andy launched into one of his first hits, Keep Your Head Up,  And up they got.  Finally, I thought, they're up and we're all in this together.  But no; after that song, they were back in their seats.   There's a point in the show where Andy encourages everyone to dance along with him in a specific way.  He calls it a 2-step and he has a specific face that goes with it.  It's humorous and so much fun.  In Morristown when inviting everyone to dance he implored the audience, "Please try dancing with this song ... if you want, you can sit back down afterwards."  And once again, everyone got up.  And once again, at the end of the song everyone sat down.  Not me.  Not Phyllis.  Not the two girls in the front or the one girl over to the right.

Between Andy's and Gavin's sets, I looked around.  The woman and her husband were no one to be found.  They'd left.  I didn't feel badly as I truly was honest.  I was/am unable to sit during live music.  But it was also loud (loud is good, you know).  And her husband had truly looked miserable.  They couldn't have known Andy Grammer and Gavin DeGraw.  If they had, they'd have known it was going to be loud.  They must have thought they were coming to see Michael Buble or Harry Connick, Jr. (both of whom I like very much but they are more sit-and-clap performances, you know, politely).

I was thinking about the whole sitting phenomenon while the crews were clearing Andy's gear away and putting Gavin's in place.  There's a certain symbiosis that happens when you're in the presence of performers like Andy Grammer and Gavin DeGraw.  Or Train. Or Bruce.  Or any other high-energy performer you can name.  They're poring everything they have into every song, laying everything on that stage.  It's a gift and they hold nothing back.  I feel it wrapping around me like an invisible force.  I can't sit.  I won't sit.

Because, you see, it's a 2-way street.  They give us their energy.  And we give it all back.  Gavin will tell you he needs it (you can actually hear him say that on his live album).  It's as if for a couple of hours you're in a relationship with the people on the stage.  They are giving this gift of music (okay, I know it's not a gift because I've paid, sometimes dearly, to be there but you know what I mean) and we receive it and return it back in the form of participation and appreciation.  And this 2-way relationship builds throughout the night until audience and performers are in complete, well, harmony, and it feels as though the crowd and the musicians have united on some imaginary plane somewhere.  Andy calls it an emotional chiropractic experience.  You may have arrived with some aches and pains, probably in your soul, but you're leaving having been adjusted, in a haze of happiness.  And it flows both ways.  It's the best thing about experiencing live music.  You become a part of it.

When Gavin and his band took the stage, it was a repeat of the response to Andy's show.  People got to their feet for his big radio hits and sat during the rest of the performance.  Gavin had been really quite ill that day (to the point he didn't play his scheduled encore).  Not everyone would have known that; I think these bits of information probably don't get out beyond the circle of fans that pay attention to every social media cue.  I marveled at Gavin's energy despite his being sick.  I don't think anyone realized how ill he was.  He gave his usual 150% to the audience as did his band.  He, too, invited the people to dance if they felt so moved.  Apparently they did not.

Morristown is my home town.  I was thrilled beyond measure when the tour was announced and I saw Morristown on the schedule.  I couldn't wait to welcome these bands to my home.  We were lucky enough to actually run into Stephen Wrabel outside the theater before the show and had the opportunity to thank him for his music and they way he humbly shares his life with his audience.  But inside the theater, I was embarrassed at the lack of enthusiasm.  I felt let down by my home town.  They clearly didn't understand the open invitation to become immersed in the music and the energy.  And I didn't understand them.

Just to be clear, I've been asked to sit at a couple of other shows; I don't want to give my hometown a hard time.  But at those other shows, sitters were clearly in the minority and just had the misfortune to be seated behind me.

So if you're sitting behind me at one of these concerts, don't ask me to sit.  You already know the answer ... I'm not able to constrain myself.  And I'm sorry.

Sorry, not sorry, that is.






















Wrabel ... Check him out here.

Andy Grammer and bassist Zach Rudolph.  Energy.  See it here.

Gavin performing You Make My Heart Sing Louder from his new record, Something Worth Saving.

(Thanks to @MedicoMG for her awesome video. As always.)

Dear Young Ladies ... or, Katherine's First Ever (and hopefully last ever) Rant

Dear Young Ladies,

Hello concert-going girls, you young ones who were dropped off by parents who didn't care enough to come with you even if they hung out in the balcony, who trusted you to represent your families in the manner in which you had been raised, who didn't realize that you could be so rude and disrespectful.

Yes, I'm writing this to you.  You know who you are.

I'm thinking we might need to review the rules for General Admission shows:

1.  Pushing is never acceptable.  If you want to be in the front row, get there early.  Really early.  Slamming the people in front of you into the stage/barricades/speakers/whatever is kind of the same as assault.

2.  Breathing on someone's neck is just plain creepy.  And disgusting.

3.  Reading someone's cellphone over their shoulder is the same as stalking.  Stalking is illegal.

4.  Continually shoving your arms and phones/cameras into the faces of the people in front of you ruins their experience.  They stood in line just like you--but longer.  That's how they attained the front row.  Do you see how that works?

5.  Screeching is not the same as singing.  We all like to sing along.  We all do sing along.  But when you are simply yelling lyrics at the top of your lungs while barely attempting to find the tune or the rhythm, it ceases to become a musical experience and you are just making noise.  Make noise at a Bieber concert.

6.  How does screaming at the artist enhance your experience?  Did you not come to hear the artist sing?  Obviously you respect the artist enough to have bought a ticket so it appears as though you're interested in the music.  Oh wait, your parents bought your ticket so you have no actual investment in the experience.  My bad.  I'm sorry you missed much of what was truly great about the music while your deafening high pitched machinations to get the artist's attention went unnoticed by the artist as that person was engaged in doing what she or he does best.

7.  Dancing at a concert is fun.  Gyrating against the people in front of you is nasty.  And disgusting.

8. Having loud conversations during the opening acts, including unkind remarks, is mean-spirited.  Those folks are just starting out often; they're working hard to get your attention.  It wouldn't kill you to be a little more attentive.  You don't have to go and buy their records or download their songs if you don't want to.  But think about how discouraging it must be for them to watch you dissing them while they're trying their best.  Is that how you'd like to be treated?  If you'd rather talk than listen, take it to the lounge or the bar.

I sincerely hope you understand the rules better now.  Basically, we're talking about common courtesy here.  Both for your fellow concert-goers and the band that is performing.  It's really not too much to ask--that you enjoy what you came for while allowing others to do so too.  It's not a solo experience, you see.  You can have that with your iPod in your room at home.  Selfishly thinking that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, isn't how society works best.  Considering what works best for the group that you find yourself in, makes life run a lot smoother.  When you can share experiences in common with other people, mutually enjoying the moment at hand, helping to enhance one another's good time--that's how awesome memories are made.  I feel sorry that you don't understand this.  You'll always have an incomplete experience until you do.

Sincerely,

One Who Wishes You'd Grow Up

(and I'm sure you will ... I'm positive you'll turn out to be awesome young adults who will look back on  your current behavior with embarrassment.  But it will be a life lesson learned ... one you can pass on to your own kids.)

~~~~~~~

Okay.  This is totally uncharacteristic for me.  But I decided to put it out there so I can let it go.  Off my soapbox now but totally cognizant of the fact that I'm bound to run in to these girls again or rather, girls just like them.  I wonder when "good of the order" and politeness went out the window.  

Or has it always been this way?  Am I just intolerant? Should I have to tolerate that behavior? I can recall those old newsreels of girls screaming when the Beatles landed in New York, how they played but no one could hear a note.  Even when I was a kid, I wondered about that.  Wouldn't you have wanted to actually hear them if you were lucky enough to have had that chance? 

Sending questions to the cosmos ... with no expectations.

Concert Diaries Chapter Nine ~ Oh Hell No ...

Am I tired of this setlist yet?

Oh hell no!

Am I tired of any of the setlists for this tour?

Oh hell no!

Okay, well maybe a little Script goes a long way for me ... I definitely would have preferred seeing Michael Franti at every performance rather than The Script.

If it's Saturday, it must be Boston, or what Ticketmaster calls Boston in order to make people believe they're going to a concert in Boston.  I fell for it.  But no, (oh hell no?), make that over an hour south of Boston in the woods of Mansfield. The Comcast Center.  Loud Chick had issues with getting us out of the city so we had a scenic tour of Roxbury and definitely a most circuitous route to spice up our ride.

My daughter lives just outside of Boston and I'm on vacation this week to visit her.  We're off to the Mermaids of Alcatraz tour tonight because as her mother, I feel duty-bound to expose her to my impeccable taste in music.  I meant that as a joke but as I think about it, it's pretty true.  She's seen a lot of Broadway, had piano and flute lessons, sang for years with the Girls' Choir at St. Peter's and had some fantastic performance and touring opportunities with that group.  She marched in her high school marching band and played concert band as well so she's been exposed to a wide range music from Bach to Bruce, from Gilbert and Sullivan to Aida performed live amongst ruins in Rome and to her favorite classic rock bands like Pink Floyd and my favorite whom we will see tonight (my twelfth time, her second).  It's Gavin DeGraw time, once again.

We're pretty far back but this venue has a very nice incline to it so the sight lines are okay.  They're okay for someone who can see.  My eyesight is in the middle-aged not-so-great stage.  But that's okay, somehow I'm able to focus just fine when those first chords strike and the guys in the band (I can't call them boys like he does--they're all grown men and one is older than him) take the stage.  Gavin had posted earlier in tweets and vines that he was on vocal rest for a horribly sore throat.  I wondered earlier if he would have to cancel his scheduled meet and greets in order to stay rested.  Like the true professional he is, however, he made those fans happy by keeping the appointments, although, according to one friend's tweet, he whispered his way through them. 

You would not have known he was under the weather from the performance he gave last night.  Yes, the same set list as I'd heard twice this summer already but I cannot grow tired of it.  Oh hell no.  It is a joy to watch him perform in person, moving easily through the crowd and gaining many fans, I'm sure, with every song he sings.  The people around us are fans too so there are no issues this time with standing and singing.  Thank goodness--it was a beautiful night and I needed to be on my feet.  The couple in front of us were on their feet too--but they were not too steady.  I'm not sure what it is but both Boston-area concerts we've been to, we've had to deal with drunken people in front of us.  Both of us found this person rather amusing but her loud screams were pretty wearing on the nerves after a while.

Since I'd missed the first few songs from The Script on Tuesday night, I made sure I was in my seat for the start of their set.  It started with an animated opening projected on screens much like the opening of Train's set on opening night.  It was hard to hear but I imagine if you were a Script fan and knew their music, it made sense.  To me it looked like an eye test but I'm sure it had something to do with the album title, Science and Faith.  They are a band with a lot of energy and there are a couple of songs that I do truly enjoy.  I find though, that their songs all sound somewhat alike and one song in particular, which is apparently a huge hit judging from the crowd reaction, really grates on my nerves.  They also chugged beer on stage and used a fair amount of the "f" word.  Since this tour has attracted so many families (lots of families enjoy Train together), I thought that they should have been more cognizant of who was in the audience.  There were a fair number of children and they had to have known that.  Language doesn't bother me at all; I'm just saying I think a band that is so revered by teens and preteens ought not to be glorifying drinking to excess with cursing.  "If you're not fucking drunk, you're not fucking drinking enough," was the line that really bothered me.  This is not to say I didn't enjoy them; they were okay.

The set change for Train took a while as I knew it would.  The couple in front of us were enjoying themselves enormously even screaming for the recorded music that plays between sets.  We could tell that some of the people around us were getting more than a little annoyed. 


Finally, the San Francisco fog began to blow across the stage, the whistle bellowed and Train began their show.  I have to admit having now seen them three times this summer:  they've got me.  I'm a fan.  The music is easy to understand even with all the complicated words in some of the lyrics.  You can't help but get involved.  Pat Monahan is a generous performer taking photos of himself with the cameras of fans while singing, pitching t-shirts into the audience and walking out into the crowd to sing "Marry Me."  Marry Me makes me sad every time I hear it.  Every couple in the crowd becomes obviously "coupled" and it has the effect of making a single person feel quite alone--at least this single person.  Tonight, a couple in the front row became engaged while Pat was singing "Mary Me." 


I want to tweet to Pat Monahan.  When you go to the same concert a few times you hear the same "banter" over and over.  Out on Long Island on Tuesday he told the New York crowd that he expected big participation on the song, Save Me San Francisco, because New York invented the term "Oh hell no," which is part of the lyric.  At the time I thought that was kind of neat, recognizing the tough New Yorker crowd.  Except that Saturday night he's said the same thing to the Boston folks.  I expect if I'd made it to the Sunday show in New Jersey, I'd have heard that New Jersey invented "oh hell no."  So who came up with that phrase?  Don't ask Pat ... he's not sure ...

At some point someone must have complained about the loud gyrating woman and her husband because some venue security came and escorted them away. We felt kind of bad for them--they weren't as bad as the guy in front of us last year--but after they left I had a really clear shot of the stage so I was able to take a lot of pictures.

Pat came out for the encore performances with a Boston t-shirt on.  It's clear that people are still very much tuned in to the Marathon tragedy which is completely understandable.  An event of that magnitude will hover just below the surface of the consciousness of a community for a long time--maybe forever.  I can't see the New York skyline without thinking of September 11--every single time.  The crowd appreciated Pat's gesture.  After singing Drops of Jupiter, the song he wrote following his mom's death, he asks Ashley Monroe, Gavin and Danny to join him for The Weight again.  Gavin was wearing a grey sweater over a yellow shirt.  At first I thought the sweater was due to his not feeling well but he unzipped it to reveal a Boston Strong t-shirt with the now familiar blue and yellow logo.  There was a huge roar of appreciation for him.

I wish I could tell if my daughter really enjoys these forays into my music world or if she's just indulging her mom.  We bought Gavin and Train shirts tonight (for both of us).  I think that's a good sign.  She wouldn't wear a shirt she didn't like.  We've seen Bruce together--it was easy to tell she was excited to be there.  (Although, I fail to see how anyone could not be excited at a Springsteen show.  It's an event unto itself.)  I can't expect everyone I love to be the die-hard Gavin DeGraw fan that I've become.  Can I?  Oh hell no.  Except that I do...

~

Post script ... Sunday night found me hanging with family instead of at the concert in Holmdel.  Some things take precedence. 

Sleepless Again ... or Still

I'm on vacation this week.  It's the same week I took last year.  Fangirling around the East Coast ... six days, three concerts, one meet and greet and time with my daughter.  I'm calling it perfect, although many won't understand ... at least not the fangirl part.

Concert season sleeplessness is upon me again as well.  Staying up late to revel in tweeted photos and videos; late-night conversations with fellow fan friends in every time zone in this country and several others.  Reading the blogs of those who, like me, need to write down all the magic in order to remember it.  More anticipation.  More post-concert elation.

What is the definition of manic?

The Cambridge Dictionary:  Excited or anxious in a way that causes a lot of physical activity.  Hmmm... Excited and anxious?  Yes, both.  Lots of physical activity?  Not really.  Except for the walking.  Which, come to think about it, started around the same time as the music obsession.  Right.

Miriam-Webster:  Affected with, relating to, characterized by, or resulting from mania.  Okay, then. Mania? Excessive or unreasonable enthusiasm.

Bingo.

I'm suffering from mania.  I am a maniac.  A middle-aged maniac.  If I wasn't having such a great time and if I didn't know how much good this addiction has done in my life, I'd think that sounded pathetic.  

But this relatively new-found mania may have resurrected my life.  I like to think it has although deep down I know there's a lot more to it than just the music.  But since the music was the catalyst for the happiness and contentment that have my cup full to running over, I will continue to be thankful for the freedom and joy that flood my days.

~

Of note:  Extreme fans of the band Train are known as trainiacs.  I'll be seeing Train three times this week, in three states.  However, I'm not a trainiac.  They just happen to be on the road with me right now.

Concert Diaries Chapter Six: A Full Day

Yesterday.  The day was crammed from start to finish with anticipation, excitement, great music and friends  Every hour was filled experiences that fed my memory.

I believe that really good things happen for really good people, people who go out of their way for others, who are continually kind and generous. This is true for one of my concert friends. She has amazing concert karma and shares this very deserved good fortune with many. 

I've spent the days surrounding our concert with this and other friends who are Gavin DeGraw fans. N, who has opened her home to me and shares her great karma had arranged for ten of us to attend a private show and lunch with one of the night's artists, Michael Franti. The show and lunch were sponsored by the local radio station 94.9 The Point.  The Point had also sponsored the previous night's Sister Hazel concert. 

Up close and personal, it doesn't get much better than that. Michael brought with him his guitar player, Jay Bowman and singer, Gina. They  performed the upbeat songs with messages of love and peace that he's known for. N's and R's daughters went up on stage to join him on one fun number. From his new single, I'm Alive to the hit The Sound of Sunshine and several others, we were treated to the positive vibe and joy created by Michael and his friends. They generously posed for pictures with everyone and chatted for a few minutes. 

It's really pretty special meeting these creative people who fill the world with their gifts of music and message. Michael's unique humanity that shines through both his music and his character inspires one to want to put that type of attitude into the world too. Oh... and dancing. We should all be dancing. 

After lunch N managed, with her legendary contacts, to get us all in as guests at the radio station for a private performance with Gavin DeGraw, Billy Norris (guitar) and Ian O'Neill (drums). Gavin sang his new single, Best I Ever Had and his hit from last year, Not Over You. A woman in the audience was taking video of him singing Not Over You so he took the phone and continued to film himself.  It's a great video, now on YouTube.  She must have been beyond surprised and thrilled.

Up close. Personal. Acoustic. Amazing. He, too, stayed and posed for pictures. Meeting Gavin is a lovely experience. He's incredibly warm and friendly to each individual whether a fan or a station executive. He puts you at ease (well, not me; I'm nervous even though I've had this pleasure a few times now). You're not aware of the other people around you because you're concentrating so hard and his focus is solely on chatting with you. I don't have a clue what I said to him.  

Are you still with me? That was two private performances by my favorite singer and a newer (to me) amazing performer. 

And this is all before the concert.