Pages tagged “Favorite Concerts”

#1
Arcade Fire
May 1, 2007, Atlanta Civic Center

The first time I saw Arcade Fire was at the Austin City Limits festival in 2005. I was up in the photographer pit for the first few songs, and the band started the show with most of its members singing a capella at the top of their lungs. When we had to leave the pit after a few songs, one of our photographers started babbling, "That was one of those completely transcendent experiences where you glimpse a bit of heaven—but I never have those experiences!" So when the snow kept me from leaving New York on Valentine's Day last year, 1,000 miles away from my beautiful wife, I was at least a little consoled by a ticket to see one of Arcade Fire's intimate kick-off shows for the Neon Bible tour at Judson Memorial Church on Washington Square. Win Butler was sick, but he still led his merry band of Canadians in a glorious ruckus. Like Polyphonic Spree, the sum is much more than the individual parts. Every bandmate looked like they couldn't think of a more fun thing than playing music at that particular moment. Plus, I can't remember a band whose first two albums I love more. That show could have easily taken the top spot, but I saw them again in Atlanta on May 1. Instead of being by myself, most everyone I knew seemed to be there. Atlanta's not known for packing out indie rock shows, but all 4,600 seats were filled—at least until Win invited everyone to come closer, filling the aisles. My publisher Nick Purdy referred to the show as "arena indie rock." One of the guys actually climbed the banister holding onto fans for support. By the time they played "Wake Up," I was ready to declare this my favorite show ever.

#4
Sufjan Stevens
April 1, 2005
Back in 1998, we launched an online CD retailer called PasteMusic.com, and one of the first CDs we added to the site was by a band called Marzuki, fronted by Shannon Stephens with a multi-instrumentalist named Sufjan Stevens. It featured accordion, banjo, flutes and sounded like nothing else I'd heard. When the musicians went their separate ways, Shannon released a self-titled album with a brilliant song about domestic abuse called "Catch the Morning Line," and Sufjan recorded a solo album called A Sun Came with moments of great promise and moments of silliness, like the line from Super Sexy Woman: "She'll shoot a super fart/The deadly silent kind." At the time, I'd have put my money on Shannon. But then came Michigan. And Seven Swans. And then my favorite album of the last decade, Illinois. I had just heard the latter for the first time a few weeks before heading up to Grand Rapids, Mich., for The Faith and Music festival, where I'd been asked to speak. The conference featured Sufjan Stevens, Daniel Smith from The Danielson Family, Over the Rhine, Dave Bazan from Pedro the Lion, Denison Witmer, David Eugene Edwards from Sixteen Horsepower, and Don Peris from the Innocence Mission, all tackling issues of faith with more nuance and understanding than Nasvhille's whole Christian music scene. I'd seen Sufjan with his boyscout band crammed on a tiny stage after Michigan, but here he was with a band that was more like an orchestra. The swans had been shed for butterflies. Blow-up Supermans were tossed around the room. He played "Chicago" and "Casmir Pulaski Day" and "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." while the projector showed home movies and the audience sat with rapt attention. There was a distinct feeling that we were launching something akin to Rites of Spring (albeit without the rioting). Sufjan proceeded to take over the country, playing vaunted venues like The Lincoln Center in New York and The Kennedy Center in D.C. But that night, he was still in Michigan, making a joyful ruckus.

#6
INXS
March 3, 1988, The Omni (Atlanta)

OK, before you get in a huff about INXS topping U2 on this list, you need to know that this is the first concert I went to with my buddies (I'm not counting Bon Jovi, where we got dropped off). You also need to notice the seat number above. Somehow we got third row seats in a 15,000-seat arena. We also were among the few to get there in time to enjoy Public Image Ltd., so I got to hear "This is Not a Love Song" live. Michael Hutchence & co. put on a great show, but more importantly I was introduced to the idea of spending an evening with friends, dancing and singing along to music that we loved—a formula that would be repeated hundreds of times over the years. Alas, the band didn't put a good album out after Kick, and has been reduced to the Reality Show Bin after Hutchence's death. But they launched my love for live music, and I'll always be grateful.

#7
U2
Nov. 19, 2005, Philips Arena (Atlanta)

I remember missing the Joshua Tree tour. My sister went, and I, being the jobless 15-year-old, stayed home. I remember that The BoDeans opened, and I instead listened to the Joshua Tree cassette on my boombox. I apparently was one of the few people who actually liked the follow-up, Rattle and Hum, and was initially bored by Achtung Baby, Pop and Zooropa. So in 2005, I somehow found myself never having seen one of the best bands of my generation. And they really are. Bono still seems to draw his energy from the adoring masses, and he acts like it's the first stadium show he's ever played and is awed by the crowd. There's still so much joy and camaraderie on the stage, with each of the members playing off their bandmates. And the catalog is so deep and rich—and only getting deeper and richer. I was just as excited to hear "City of Blinding Lights" and "Beautiful Day" as I was to hear "Pride (In the Name of Love)" and "40." They may be the most hyped live band since The Beatles, but that's only because they actually live up to it.

#8
The Ramones
Nov. 22, 1988, Center Stage (Atlanta)
It all started with a crappy job and a mix tape some guy made for my older sister. The job was at a one-hour photo place. My two bosses chafed at my love of '70s classic rock. I'd talk about The Steve Miller Band and the Eagles, and they'd wonder why I didn't listen to anything new and play XTC and P.I.L. It was about that same time I borrowed my sister's mixtape. Among tracks from Drivin' 'n Cryin' and Plimsouls were two Ramones songs—"I Wanna Be Sedated" and a cover of the Beach Boys "Do You Wanna Dance?" The band wasn't new—they'd been playing the same four chords for 14 years—but it was completely new to me. After watching "Rock and Roll High School" with some friends, we headed to Center Stage for a Ramones show. The band blew through dozens of two-minute songs in a couple of hours. There was more leather in the room than I'd seen in one place, but I was bopping along with everybody, shouting "Hey Ho! Let's Go!" and saying goodbye to Foreigner forever.

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#9
Uncle Tupelo
Feb. 11, 1994, The 40 Watt (Athens, Ga.)
As with Guadalcanal Diary, Uncle Tupelo became my favorite band just in time for me to catch the farewell tour. Whatever personal problems Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy might have been having offstage, when they started playing, they were in lock-step. Not since Lennon and McCartney had a band been as blessed with two songwriters (#98 and #24 on our list of the 100 Best Living Songwriters), and they took turns at the mic singing some great ones from their entire catalog: "Chickamauga," "Anodyne," "The Long Cut," "Watch Me Fall." Plus old covers that they'd long since made their own like "Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down." The bandmates, of course, have gone on to form Son Volt and Wilco, but it was great to catch them onstage together in a single, wonderful night. I wish I still had the ticket, but some video will have to do. Listen to those guys harmonize:

#10
The Hold Steady
Oct. 25, 2007, The 40 Watt (Athens, Ga.)
Craig Finn really isn't even a singer in the proper sense. He kind of half-drunkenly shouts out stories, and the effect live is like he's talking to the audience all night. There's a shallowness to much of the subject matter—ingesting chemicals and hooking up—but he's still so damn insightful and interesting. He's a little goofy and infectiously happy. And so is the music, sloppy bar rock with big '70s muscular hooks. If you look around the room, everybody has big ol' grins on their faces, including guitarist Tad Kubler and the wonderfully mustachioed keyboardist Franz Nicolay. This was my second time seeing them, but it was part of a road trip to Athens with friends, which makes any show a little better. Plus they played almost every song off Boys and Girls in America, including my favorite, "Stuck Between Stations":

#11
Guadalcanal Diary
Sept. 15, 1989, Center Stage (Atlanta)
I've had a lot of favorite bands through the years, but the one that held the top spot through my senior year of high school was an Atlanta band called Guadalcanal Diary. They played literate rock songs on topics as varied as the Trail of Tears and unexplained visions of The Three Stooges. The music veered from stately Rickenbacker college rock to loose-as-hell rockabilly. They were smart and fun. Problem was, they were on the verge of breaking up soon after my discovery. So my first time to see them happened to be their final Atlanta show. Each song that they launched into was one that I'd listened to dozens and dozens of times on one of their four albums. I crushed my way towards the very front, danced and sung every lyric of "Watusi Rodeo," "Litany (Life Goes On)" and "Cattle Prod." Guitarist Jeff Wall went on to play in another great live band, Hillbilly Frankenstein, and still plays with The Woggles. Singer Murray Attaway had a very good solo album on Geffen. And Guadalcanal played a glorious reunion show at the Roxy in 1996. I can't wait for the next one.

I was recently digging through a pile of ticket stubs I've saved, finding cool show after cool show, from high school, college and especially, these last six years since we started Paste magazine. There are some big omissions—I've still never seen Springsteen or The Stones. I've only in the last few years checked off Dylan and Prince (neither made the list and only Prince was close). Some of my favorites are obvious choices. Others are more offbeat or just personal. But all are seared into my memory; for each night, I stood (or occasionally sat) in awe of the performance that was given. I'll countdown my Top 12 this week, and begin with one of the obvious: