Etta James
The concert was great!. The band was very tight, and Etta was in really good voice. She's lost a lot of weight, more than I think I was expecting, and looks quite different. She was pretty energetic the whole show, even when she was in her customized swivel chair. But she moved around a good bit. The set was a little short, and VERY blues heavy. I would have much preferred a Jazz oriented set myself, but it was still very good. The concert did require me to expend a lot of my personal reserve of self-control. So if I seem a little bit short with anyone for next couple of weeks, it's probably because there's not much patience left in the tank at this point.
And what it boils down to is that some people who go to concerts have no respect. Not for the artist, for the people around them, or for themselves. There were three people behind me that I had to finally ask to shut up, because they talked the entire fucking time. You know, every once in awhile, when there's something to say that relevant to the performance, you lean over and tell the person next to you in a voice that they can hear, but that hopefully won't disturb anyone else. But apparently if you're a 40 something New York gay Jew talking to two 19 year old girls, a conversation about fucking MySpace that everyone in a 15 foot radius can hear because your nasally voice cuts through beautiful sounds like those eminating from the mouth of Etta James like a big wet fart slices through silence in church right after the words, "let us bow our heads."
If I'm paying $20 for a concert, I expect that people are going to talk. And visit with people around them. I expect that I'm in a goddamn bar seeing a concert. If I'm paying more than $40 for a show, I want to listen to the person singing, or playing violin, or whatever. I don't want to listen to the drunk behind me talking to two girls whose daddies don't love them or care about them and mask the fact that they don't have time for them by buying them concert tickets and BMWs. And when I've also bought the ticket for my guest and forked up for dinner and I'm dropping $150 on the evening, yeah, I feel fucking entitled to turn around and politely tell you to please keep it down because you're making it difficult to enjoy the experience. Be happy that I'm not turning around, giving you a smile, and then laying your bitch-ass out on the floor.
And those stupid little bitches...the tickets explicitly say, "No Camera, No Recording." So I got a fucking string dangling by my ear where rude bitch number 1 is holding her fucking camera up to take 10 second videos and snap flash pictures. Where the fuck is security? I'm gonna contact HOB and complain on Monday. And find out what they would do if I had said something. Because if they say they'll check the camera and boot someone for doing it, next time I'm gonna head right for security if the person also can't keep their fucking mouth shut.
All that said, Etta was great. I'm glad I got the chance to see her live. I would have liked to have hung around after to get her autograph, but that just always seem so rude of me to do that I can never make myself.
The late night show was Mofro, who started at 2am. I though about staying but decided I didn't want to be completely assed-out for the rest of the weekend. I had been hoping to go see Umphreys McGhee tonight at the old Howling Wolf in the warehouse district, but I'm going to a party at 4 today and I'm thinking I might be pretty tired and wasted by the time that concert rolls around. If I didn't have so many people to see (parents, grandmothers, friends) it would be a weekend of non-stop concerts. Because the coolest thing about Jazzfest isn't the festival, it's that every artist in town for Jazzfest is also looking for another gig. So both weekends of Jazzfest there's always a lot of good shows to catch.
Tomorrow is the Blessing of the Fleet down in Lafitte, where my dad's fishing lodge is. So Shelly and Andy (her husband) and her dad and Helga (Andy's mom) and maybe a couple other people will be down there to BBQ and we'll watch the boats go up and down Bayou Barataria on their way to get blessed by the priest.
Sorry for the long and rambling blog update, but it's always a busy weekend when I'm back in New Orleans so computer time is pretty limited and I want to get everything in one big post rather than trying to do three or four of them. I hope everyone in Columbus is having a great time and doing something fun. See ya'll next week.
And what it boils down to is that some people who go to concerts have no respect. Not for the artist, for the people around them, or for themselves. There were three people behind me that I had to finally ask to shut up, because they talked the entire fucking time. You know, every once in awhile, when there's something to say that relevant to the performance, you lean over and tell the person next to you in a voice that they can hear, but that hopefully won't disturb anyone else. But apparently if you're a 40 something New York gay Jew talking to two 19 year old girls, a conversation about fucking MySpace that everyone in a 15 foot radius can hear because your nasally voice cuts through beautiful sounds like those eminating from the mouth of Etta James like a big wet fart slices through silence in church right after the words, "let us bow our heads."
If I'm paying $20 for a concert, I expect that people are going to talk. And visit with people around them. I expect that I'm in a goddamn bar seeing a concert. If I'm paying more than $40 for a show, I want to listen to the person singing, or playing violin, or whatever. I don't want to listen to the drunk behind me talking to two girls whose daddies don't love them or care about them and mask the fact that they don't have time for them by buying them concert tickets and BMWs. And when I've also bought the ticket for my guest and forked up for dinner and I'm dropping $150 on the evening, yeah, I feel fucking entitled to turn around and politely tell you to please keep it down because you're making it difficult to enjoy the experience. Be happy that I'm not turning around, giving you a smile, and then laying your bitch-ass out on the floor.
And those stupid little bitches...the tickets explicitly say, "No Camera, No Recording." So I got a fucking string dangling by my ear where rude bitch number 1 is holding her fucking camera up to take 10 second videos and snap flash pictures. Where the fuck is security? I'm gonna contact HOB and complain on Monday. And find out what they would do if I had said something. Because if they say they'll check the camera and boot someone for doing it, next time I'm gonna head right for security if the person also can't keep their fucking mouth shut.
All that said, Etta was great. I'm glad I got the chance to see her live. I would have liked to have hung around after to get her autograph, but that just always seem so rude of me to do that I can never make myself.
The late night show was Mofro, who started at 2am. I though about staying but decided I didn't want to be completely assed-out for the rest of the weekend. I had been hoping to go see Umphreys McGhee tonight at the old Howling Wolf in the warehouse district, but I'm going to a party at 4 today and I'm thinking I might be pretty tired and wasted by the time that concert rolls around. If I didn't have so many people to see (parents, grandmothers, friends) it would be a weekend of non-stop concerts. Because the coolest thing about Jazzfest isn't the festival, it's that every artist in town for Jazzfest is also looking for another gig. So both weekends of Jazzfest there's always a lot of good shows to catch.
Tomorrow is the Blessing of the Fleet down in Lafitte, where my dad's fishing lodge is. So Shelly and Andy (her husband) and her dad and Helga (Andy's mom) and maybe a couple other people will be down there to BBQ and we'll watch the boats go up and down Bayou Barataria on their way to get blessed by the priest.
Sorry for the long and rambling blog update, but it's always a busy weekend when I'm back in New Orleans so computer time is pretty limited and I want to get everything in one big post rather than trying to do three or four of them. I hope everyone in Columbus is having a great time and doing something fun. See ya'll next week.
posted by Karaoke Joe at 12:27 PM
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