To paraphrase Mr. Tamblyn, how much would you pay to see a bill featuring Dumpy’s Rusty Nuts, Iron Prostate, the Darling Buds, Kix and Sleep Chamber? Regardless of the ticket price, Amanda of You Go Live In Utah paid a much higher psychic toll to see one of her longtime favorites some 8 years ago.
When I was 19, I really liked Gene Loves Jezebel. One problem. I was 19 in the Year of our Lord 2000. The bad news for Gene Loves Jezebel was that in 2000, they were well past their heyday and needed any gig they could get. The good news for me was that in 2000, Gene Loves Jezebel were well past their prime and needed any gig they could get. Enter Taste of Dallas 2000. Lucky for me, Gene Loves Jezebel would be appearing on the main stage on opening night at a very special 6pm slot. I was lucky enough to get a spot near the stage though I must admit that the 11 or so middle-aged goths in PVC pants in the July sun didn’t seem to mind acquiescing to me much. I should mention now that Gene Loves Jezebel was comprised of Welsh twin brothers Jay and Michael Aston who since their heyday have had a nasty falling out and now tour separately each under the Gene Loves Jezebel name. I got the Michael Aston (second tier) version at Taste of Dallas. I should have probably suspected that when he came out in leather pants whose zipper was being held up with a safety pin which did not strike me as a fashion statement.
The nadir of the evening? As he builds into the chorus of “Gorgeous”, he hands the microphone to me to sing. I don’t do karaoke. I don’t come to shows to do other people’s jobs. I don’t come to shows to work the light board or sell merch or sweep up after everyone leaves. So I don’t sing into the mic if you put it in front of my face. I was later told by Mr. Aston that “was the first time in 20 years that I have given the mic to a girl to sing ‘Gorgeous.'” So better luck in the next twenty, sir.
Tommy Carrol of Straight Ahead once held out the microphone to me at a show in Albany, NY, in ’86, and I didn’t know the words to the song, so, yeah, I guess I can kinda relate, but not really.
One of my best concert memories of the 80s: seeing the Bunnymen and New Order outdoors, and during the G Loves J openers, someone sent this massive, block of ice, like catapulted almost Medieval-times style from the back of the audience. It went arcing over everyone’s heads and with military precision smashed over the head of one of the brothers. It was really remarkable.