In his rare moments of lucidity, my father likes to tell a story about a Springsteen show in 1974 during which Bruce brought out a violinist and refused to start Jungleland until the auditorium was completely silent. Can you even imagine that today? See, I'm not even talking about imposing total silence. Order a cocktail, hoot and/or holler and mention to your neighbor that the lead singer has really ballooned up since getting off the horse; it's all good. What I'm talking about are people so engrossed in their conversations that the show becomes background noise, or even worse, a nuisance to be overcome by speaking even louder. For your convenience, I've broken this genus into three common species:
Sons of Herodotus - For these guys (and they're always guys) the show only exists to provide context for their encyclopedic knowledge of the band. I saw Wilco at First Avenue on their inaugural tour and found myself standing near a particularly enthusiastic chap who, for the duration of Wilco's set, chronicled the history of Uncle Tupelo. He even sang his favorite UT songs while Tweedy and the boys tried bravely (albeit unsuccessfully) to sell numbers like Passenger Side to Pavement's disinterested fans.
Scenewiches - These people (50/50 gender split) are here for one or more of the following reasons:Subsequently, they show up to hear the new single (of course, they're already "sick of" the first single), to be seen and to reinforce their With It Quotient by dragging a group of friends along. I had a row of Scenewiches behind me at a recent Springsteen show who reacted like Girls In Their Summer Clothes was musical manna, then talked about Missy's ugly divorce throughout New York City Serenade once they decided it was some of Bruce's "older stuff."
- the band or artist's reputation as a live act
- the local weekly has been pimping the band or artist
- their first single was prominently featured on The Hills
Peaches (females) and Herbs (males) - For these folks, the show is a convenient venue to catch up with friends. The show only exists to fill brief gaps while the gang plans bachelorette parties and catches up on gossip. When Donald Fagen stopped in the Twin Cities, I had the pleasure of sitting in front of eight Herbs who spent most of the evening discussing the upcoming softball season and debating whether a certain guy could be trusted to man the hot corner.
Previous Guidelines:
I. Thou Shalt Not Puke
II. Thou Shalt Not Fart
III. Thou Shalt Not Smoke
IV. Thou Shalt Not Take Crappy Pictures With Your Cell Phone
V. Thou Shall Show Up On Time
VI. Thou Shalt Not Request Songs
VII. Thou Shall Respect The Personal Space of Others
IX. Thou Shalt Not Sing Along Unless Explicitly Directed by the Performer(s)
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