ROCK & ROLL
First of all, let me just say that it was a treat to see The Police in concert. I'm so blown away by the live experience. I've been a fan most of my life, and dreamed of the day they'd get back together and do another tour. For me, it doesn't get any better than standing with 20,000 screaming fans, singing along with "So Lonely." Stewart Copeland is a god, plain and simple. When he left his kit to bang around of various and sundry chimes, bells and cymbals for "Wrapped Around Your Finger," I was so stunned by the beauty of it I didn't realize what song they were playing until the chorus hit. Andy Summers has an effortlessness about his guitar work that belies the complexity of what he's playing. And Sting . . . I was reminded that Sting is a rock star and a damn fine musician. I had forgotten that over the course of his past few albums.
Okay, that's out of the way. As much as I loved The Police, I must admit that Foo Fighters spoke to me more.
It hit me at the right time, seeing the Foo Fighters in concert. As Pamela mentioned in her blog, we've been watching the documentary about the Little Rock punk scene, Towncraft. This movie has brought back such wonderful memories and has reignited my love for that music, the folk music of my generation; the sweaty balls, ragged throat, whiplash music that I thrashed to at Kimmery Park.
So with my melon a' buzz and my spirits lifted, Pamela and I made the trip to Dodgers Stadium, and the most amazing thing I've seen onstage in a long time.
If you've read Pam's blog, you know what happened. The stage was set up deep center field. The diamond was cordoned off, but the rest of the field was filled with seats. Our seats were a cut above nosebleed, in the mezzanine area.
Halfway through "Stacked Actors" as the band is grooving, and you just know someone is about to cut loose with a bitchin' solo, Dave Grohl stepped to the edge of the stage, jumped off, leaped a barrier, and rushed into the crowd.
This is the sort of thing Jim Morrison did. It's not the sort of thing that happens now-a-days! He made his way down the aisle, and it became aparrent what his planned destination was: home plate. He made it to the tempory fence surrounding the infield, and kicked at it ... but alas, it wasn't to be. A handful of security guards got to him before he could cross the fence.
So, cheered on by the surprised and elated crowd, Grohl ran around to the speaker trusses near third base, climbed up on some empty travel cases and a porta potty, and played his solo. It wasn't home plate, but at that point, it didn't have to be!
So here it is: Grohl is one of, if not the greatest rock drummer alive. He writes tight music that demands your respect ... shit, even his ballads have testosterone to spare. The man forms metal bands in his spare time, and played Satan for Tenacious D. And for one bright, shining moment he gave convention (and common sense) the finger, and joined us in the house. So let's just say it, and let it be said henceforth throughout the land: Dave Grohl IS Rock and Roll!
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