First Things First...The Five Most Amazing Shows (in no particular order)

I feel that in order for us to get to know each other better, here's a brief rundown of my concert history, the best and worst I've ever seen. So to begin...

Buddy Guy (at the Count Basie Theater in Red Bank) Buddy, at 71 years of age, rocked hard enough to put similarly-aged musical icons like Ozzy and Bob Dylan to shame. His high-energy set was punctuated by sly jokes, awesome solos, and for the coupe-de-gras, a lenghty stroll through the crowd while pounding out the closing number of his set. He proved his point when talking to the crowd about a young kid Buddy had seen walking around in the lobby during the show. Buddy said he knows the kind of music those kids are more familiar with, and he wanted to prove he's still got it. Then out of nowhere he launched into the bone-crushing opening riffs of Jimi Hendrix's 'Voodoo Chille". Buddy held the guitar up to his mouth and shredded with his teeth as the band happily played along. Hendrix would have been proud. As one of the only bluesmen from the golden age still alive today, I felt privileged to see Buddy do what he's always done best. A truly great experience.

Metallica (at the Continental Airlines Arena in East Rutherford, NJ) I don't consider myself a delusional Metallica fan; sure they've sailed far past their mid-eighties thrash metal prime. But seeing as Metallica helped introduce me to heavy music at the age of eleven, I have to give credit where credit is due--it was fuckin' awesome to see fuckin' Metallica play the songs every metalhead has in their music collection. Luckily, they stayed far away from the dismal material on St. Anger and delivered the usuals, like Master of Puppets and One, alongside surprises like The God That Failed and a cover of the Misfit's Last Caress. James Hetfield may be a kinder, gentler soul since his stint in rehab (referring to himself as 'Papa Het' throughout the show), but the boys in the band, Kirk Hammet in particular, still convey a shadow of the glory they once possessed, and that's good enough for me.

Gogol Bordello (at the Trocadero Theatre, Philly) Easily the smallest venue I have ever seen a show in, this show was truly up-close and personal. Gogol Bordello hit the stage with a wild energy that did not falter once throught the enitire set. They had everything: the wild-eyed gypsy frontman struming an acoustic guitar and banging a metal bucket over a microphone, an accordion player, a 60-something fiddler, and not to mention the two 'gypsy sidekicks' decked out in headscavres and football gear pounding the hell out of cymbals and bass drums. Everyone was there to have a good time, and as the crowd jumped, danced and sang along to songs like 'Think Locally, Fuck Globally" and "Not A Crime", it was clear that a good time was being had. We were even privy to a little geography lesson, as lead singer Eugene Hutz unfurled the flag of their country, explaining that they hailed from Romany, NOT Romania. Point taken. I'll be back to see them same time, same place, in July.

Les Claypool and his Fancy Band (at the Electric Factory in Philly) This was less like a concert and more like a sprawling jam session that showcased the talent of not only Claypool but his entire band. With solos aplenty and songs that soared past the ten minute mark, Claypool and his Fancy Band showed everyone what a true jam band experience is. More on this in my first post, but I'll just say that if Les was playing a show every night for the next week, I'd sell a kidney in order to be at every one. (though at just over 20 bucks a ticket, I probably wouldn't even have to)

The White Stripes (at the House of Blues in Atlantic City) The White Stripes made their entrance on stage in an appropriate manner for ex-spouses who claim to be brother and sister; Meg sat at the drums, threw her sticks down, and Jack came from the backstage and chased her off. They were gone for another ten minutes. Theatrics or not, it set the tone for what was to be a very unusual show. There was the great illuminated apple in the sky. There was the wall of amps. There was the black, white, and red jungle backdrop and the statues lined up around the stage. But it was only just the visual to the music that the White Stripes (or maybe just Jack) do so well. I don't understand why Jack seems to hold back with his guitar playing on the Stripe's albums; his performance in songs like "Death Letter" and '"Ball and Biscuit" proved that he had strenghtned his guitar chops considerably from what their albums suggest. He really works that slide guitar like few modern bluesmen do. And whether you're of the mindset that the Stripes simply rip off old blues artists for mainstream acceptance or that they are talented artists in their own right, nobody would deny that they were on top of their game in AC. Conspicuously absent from the set list was their first big hit 'Fell In Love With A Girl'. I'm pretty sure nobody missed it.