Post 11 - The Concert Series

Photo by Roberto Rendon on Unsplash

A Toast To: Music being the food of love.

Song Pairing: Chris de Burgh - “Patricia the Stripper” (from the album, Spanish Trains and Other Stories, 1975).

In preparing for this post I challenged the old memory bank, to recall every concert I have ever attended. I quit adding to the list when I surpassed the fifty-show mark. It was quite fitting that I have averaged one show for every year of my life. Now, I have family and friends who have seen Bruce Springsteen and Dave Matthews Band at least fifty times. So yes, my number is impressive to some, totally lame to others. It was fun reminiscing but also strange when I couldn’t remember for sure if I went to Def Leppard or Red Hot Chili Peppers. For the record, I didn’t count those two. I’m quite sure I am forgetting a few others as well. My high school years were especially blurred. The only musician I gave two shits about back then was BD but of course I cannot for the life of me recall the name of his band now. BD was my dreamy long-haired high school crush. He didn’t know I existed. Typical adolescent story, we all have one. Interestingly enough, BD was the only guy I have ever been attracted to with long hair. I think his hair might have been better than mine. Wait no, he was a brunette, so I win. As I am typing this, my mind is in overdrive trying to locate the name of his damn band. It will come to me.

My introductory concert was Cyndi Lauper during her Fun Tour on November 17^th, 1984. So, I was eight. I’m impressed by that. Eight is a prime-ass age to expose kids to the wonderous world of concerts. Props to my Mom. This is going to sound terrible, but she was fun back then. As I have mentioned in previous posts, my Mom was my best friend, whom I loved more than anyone until around the age of fourteen. Mom worked for an exclusive (members only) golf and country club back in the eighties. She managed it. I also recall quite an impressive office. With the job, came many perks, some from vendors. Labatt Blue was one of them. John Labatt Limited sponsored tournaments my Mom hosted and regularly supplied door prizes such as concert tickets. If my Mom was anything like me back then, I imagine she had pretty flirty fun relationships with the beer reps because they were always giving her tickets to something. Honestly, as a kid I never thought twice about this, but now I have to say I’m a little proud of my Mom for working it. The outcome benefitted my brother and I several times so why the fuck not? Following Cyndi, Labatt guy also gave her Tina Turner and Bryan Adams tickets. This is where I think Def Leopard might have occurred as well.

My first solo concert happened in grade seven (twelve years old). Any guesses? The one, the only, New Kids on the Block (NKOTB). Obsessed is the word for what I was. This time around I credit my cousin SP who worked at the venue. That is the ONLY reason I was able to get tickets and her agreeing to chaperone me was the only reason my parents agreed to let me go. The best part is, in grade seven, I was popular. Middle school, the only two years of my life where I was really fucking popular and it was all thanks to SD. SD, was top tier popular. Guess for whom I got a second ticket to the concert? Yep. 

My teenage years were filled with Blue Rodeo and Barenaked Ladies shows on the field at Lansdowne, to chasing The Barstool Prophets all over Ottawa, Cornwall, and Brockville. A lot of Canadiana, The Tea Party, I Mother Earth, Our Lady Peace, Alanis Morrisette. There was also the major event of Garth Brooks in 1996 that I tried to keep under wraps. I was a closeted country fan in those days. It wasn't cool to like country at my age as a city girl. Blue Rodeo was slightly acceptable but that was only because they were Canadian and Jim Cuddy was hot. Kudos again to my Mom for waiting in line for Garth Brooks tickets at Bayshore and for taking her kiddos. Considering I have always credited my Dad for my love of music I can't say he and I have experienced many shows together. The only one I remember was Chris de Burgh in '87. That said, Chris de Burgh triggered my lifelong passion for brilliant songwriting and storytelling.

There was a major reprieve to my concert going days that lasted many years. Live shows were sidetracked for adult responsibilities like career, home buying, relationships, pets, and family obligations. Money just went to other things. Travel also became a new pursuit I enjoyed. There were a few concerts sprinkled in like Céline Dion, Rod Stewart, and an epic night out with Fefe Dobson but not much else. It wasn't until about 2007 that my music flame reignited when some of my now most favorite artists emerged. It was also when I embraced my inner country again upon hearing a young lady sing "Teardrops on My Guitar."

On August 18, 2016, not even a year into my relationship with AC, we had the honour and pleasure of attending The Tragically Hip's second last stop of the band's final cross-Canada, Man, Machine Poem Tour. It was me, AC and two of his lifelong friends JT and PSV. I had met these guys once or twice but still felt a little out of place. The only girl, the only half of a couple, the newbie. The guys were great, full of energy, excitement, funny and quick to accept me as one of the boys for the night. I had seen the Tragically Hip years prior on the Trouble in the Henhouse Tour. The show was okay, but I was a little turned off by the overwhelming smoke and smell of marijuana that filled the arena. In 1996, I have no doubt the band was as high as the audience they played to. This time around I wasn't sure what to expect. Turns out, that night, the show would be the most emotionally charged and beautiful concert experience of my life. Four newly acquainted people, in a sold-out arena, swaying along to the music, shouting out lyrics of our youth, unable to contain our tears. It was absolutely a moment that bonds people for life. To many Canadians, particularly Gen Xers, The Tragically Hip is a soundtrack that continues to play through life. Known as a National Treasure, the loss of Gord Downey in 2017, hit hard and lingered heavily. Most Canadians, fans or not, can tell you where they were the moment they heard the news. Even writing this today, recollecting the show, has me choked up. 

Since the night of The Hip, concert going has become an integral part of my life. "Buy the ticket, take the ride" has become a philosophy. Taking a day off in the middle of the week to drive out of town, catch a show, maybe stay the night is a new form of adventure. Researching artists, tours, signing up for mailing lists and entering my name for access codes has become a hobby. My anxiety is not a huge fan of presales, waiting rooms, countdown clocks, queue lines, or the price tags, but I have to say a concert has never disappointed me. It doesn't matter if it's a small club, stadium, indoors or out, emerging artist or legend. Be it with friends by my side, or on my own, if I want to be there, I find a way. Every live music event is an escape and one of the last places left to dance, sing and feel alive. It is energy I crave. 

In true Ted Lasso flair, I have shared my "first concert, best concert." There are however a few honourable mentions I need to add before burying this little time capsule:

Maroon 5. North American Summer Tour 2024. Ottawa Bluesfest, RBC Stage at LeBreton Flats Park, Ottawa, July 7, 2024.

• Adam Levine. Fangirled this one. Thought the audience chanting "take off your shirt" was immature. Didn't mind at all that he did it. 

Tom Walker. I Am Tour. Les Foufounes Électriques, Montreal, October 9, 2024.

• Fellow redhead. Huge talent in the U.K., less known here. Intimate venue. Devoted fans. High energy. Amazon Music recommended Tom to me early on in his career. Getting to see him so up close and personal was an absolute dream realized.

Mumford & Sons. Tour Before the Tour. Massey Hall, Toronto, March 23, 2025.

• For the record I have seen Mumford and Sons five times and I will continue to see them at every opportunity I can. For me, their concerts do not compare to any other artist. Massey Hall was either a fluke, pure luck or meant to be. Emails were sent to fans announcing limited, small venue shows. Fans received an opportunity to enter a lottery for the chance to win an access code. The access code gave fans a shot at getting tickets. I got tickets. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. My favorite band. Historic venue. Maximum capacity – twenty-eight hundred. Intimate. Acoustically phenomenal. Just overall exceptional. This experience is a close second place to the night of The Hip.

Music has played in my home since I was a child. It fascinates me how at fifty I can’t remember why I walked into a room, but I can remember the lyrics to thousands of songs. Yes, I know there is a psychological or neurological reason behind it, but do we have to go there? I love how music endures. Memories, good or bad - a song can transport us to anywhere we want to revisit at the touch of a button. It’s simply magical. It’s my kind of magic and I couldn’t face a day without it.

RR

xo

P.S. The Freeway Band! Ha! I knew I would remember.

Works Cited

Shakespeare, William. Twelfth Night. New York: Washington Square Press, 1993.

Taylor Swift - “Teardrops on My Guitar” (from the album, Taylor Swift, 2006).

Thompson, Hunter S. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. New York: Random House, 1971.

"Biscuits." Ted Lasso, created by Jason Sudeikis, Bill Lawrence, Brendan Hunt, and Joe Kelly, season 1, episode 2, Apple TV+, 14 Aug. 2020.