The highlight of my life came and went last Wednesday: I saw The Gaslight Anthem from the first row at Brixton's O2 Academy in London. Not only is that a venue I've fantasized about ever since seeing several of my favorite UK acts broadcasting live from Youtube, but it's my favorite band in my favorite city. Seriously, a near death experience in which one glimpses the pearly gates of Heaven couldn't have been better than this show.
And, as my Grandma Kopecky used to say: "What's in the blood and the bones, you can't knock out."
I may have evolved from an angsty, basement-punk kid with purple hair and a bad attitude into an angsty, Ralph Lauren-wearing adult with natural-looking hair color and a slightly improved attitude--but there's something about jumping around in a sea of sweaty denim and band shirts, getting your feet hammered by a thousand different pairs of Converse, and moshing by some dude with an eyebrow piercing that never gets old.
Going to shows and being 17 again (even if it's just for a couple of hours) never ceases to be cool.
(…That statement is what guarantees I'll be that 40-year old mom who still listens to relevant music and shows off her tattoos at indie rock basement shows--You know the one: You simultaneously admire her, and yet feel a little creeped out when you realize she isn't just chaperoning her kids--in fact, her kids aren't even there...)
But, I'm still young, so I can get away with dressing down, doing shots of Red Stag, and fist pumping like a maniac with little to cost to my image.
The only semblance to a complaint I can even muster (and it still makes me feel guilty) is in relation to the setlist.
They had two London shows: one on Monday, one on Wednesday, and an invite-only acoustic set at Johnny Cupcakes on Tuesday (back in the day, kids, we used to call those basement or "secret" shows), and so, as not to bore the die-hards who had been at all three, they decided to do a completely different setlist on Wednesday night.
Now that I look back on it, this shouldn't even be a grievance--I should be hopping up and down--They just released "Handwritten" in July (which, not afraid to admit, in my humble opinion is the best album yet…in the running for my favorite release all year), so I was anticipating lots of new stuff, especially since they opened the show with the bass-driven, weepy ballad "Mae." Instead, they stuck to older stuff…not just freshman studio album '59 Sound, but their very first record "Sink or Swim" and the "Senor and the Queen" EP.
They even neglected to play "Old White Lincoln," probably their most commercial single to date in exchange for classic tunes like "Angry Johnny and the Radio," "Drive," and "Wherefore Art Thou, Elvis."
After saying it out loud, the badass in me who always preaches "I thought the b-sides were better…I liked that before it was a single and hit radio…frankly, their older stuff is more telling of their artistic capabilities…blahblahblah" is having a heyday and can't imagine why they'd even WRITE Handwritten with that wealth of music at their fingertips.
Anyhow, all biases (or lack thereof) aside, it was a brilliant show. It's so cool to see Gaslight going from playing clubs that fit 150 people max, on a stage the size of my bed, to an actual, factual venue and still remain so genuine to the fans, the music, the show, and overall atmosphere of the punk scene.
Plus, it's a bonus that Brian Fallon is pretty easy on the eyes, and even better at stage banter. The only really shame here is the fact that he's married.
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