September 9, 2020 by jacklovelace
An interesting issue in the world of live concerts is always when the entertainer plays to geography, the home crowd.
A small point of irritation was always entertainers who had trouble accepting or grasping the geography.
In Kansas City it was when the star could never figure out if they were in Kansas or Missouri. They didn’t give a shit but we did.
And then when we moved to Denver, I grew weary of the gasping and shortage of breath from the altitude, one even saying “How do you live like this?”
Gee fuckwad, it’s just one of those things. I always noticed the big guys never bitched, Springsteen, etc.
I actually felt sorry for Ronnie Dunn of Brooks and Dunn fame. He was wheezing and bitching I actually thought he might pass out.
But the more fun issue was always whether they would sing songs they wrote or were identified with aimed at the place they were playing.
In St. Louis we got a lot of Chuck Berry, which was cool.
In Kansas City, my favorite was Paul McCartney (who earlier in the concert said “I’m going to do a couple new songs, it’s a good time to go to the bathroom”. And it was)
Toward the end he actually sighed, said they hadn’t practiced it, don’t expect much, but here it goes anyway.
“They got some crazy looking women there and I’m a gonna get me one.”
Bravo Paul. The early album rendition of Kansas City by the Beatles was clearly surpassed.
And then in Denver, we get the songs by Billy Joel and the Eagles and Jimmy Buffett and others that reference Colorado. (Buffett wrote a horrible song about Denver that I never blamed him for channeling.
Joe Walsh thrilled us by saying “This next song will be the national anthem when I become president”.
Ba da da da da dum. Rocky Mountain High.
Finally, I went to see Bob
Seger. I love Seger. I’m from Festus Missouri and he actually played a cave in Festus where we skated before he hit it big. I swear he claimed in a Rolling Stone interview that he was about ready to give up at that point. I never held it against him.
What did piss me off was when he played Denver. He wrote a perfectly good kick ass rocker call “Get out of Denver baby”.
He played all the hits and then he said he had one more. I was ready.
No way. He played something else. As he walked off stage a guy across the row said “What the fuck happened to Get out of Denver Baby”.
I said “exactly”.
I love Bob but I could love you more.