I spent the last week purposely avoiding all M. Doughty-related music. (Standard operating procedure for me before a live show - I like to go into the show ready to hear the performance, not involuntary spending my brain cycles comparing it to the recorded versions!) I looked forward to tonight’s concert at First Ave ever since I snagged a ticket. It was going to be great. I’ve been a fan of M. Doughty since Ruby Vroom. He could play anything from his catalog and I’d not only recognize it, but also know every last lyrical line of goodness.
I regret to say that, nevertheless, I was disappointed.
Trust me, I really wanted to love this show. And, it wasn’t that I’m bitter that he didn’t play Janine. (Janine, my iPod, has more live recordings of Janine than god does anyways!) The music wasn’t bad at all, either…he chose songs for both long-time fans and newer fans. I loved the sampling setup he played around with for a bit. I loved the completely different take he took on “True Dreams of Wichita”, one of my favoritest songs of all time.
I’ve just seen much better live shows. Maybe I had built it up too high with my anticipation. Maybe it was the venue, the 18+ crowd, the location I listened/watched from or my mood. There just wasn’t anything “there” for me tonight. It felt like he had to force himself to interact with the crowd, made me feel like I could have been watching a concert video or something and felt more like he was playing to “me”.
It looks like others disagree. So maybe it really was just me. *shrugs* Maybe I’ve already turned into an old curmudgeon.
In the interest of full disclosure, I did spend a portion of my karma balance tonight. Some young thangs squeezed in next to me and in front of Jodi around the middle of the show. Normally not a problem, but the one closest to me kept on whackin’ me with her huge purse, raising her hands in the air like she was prayin’ to jebus during half of the songs, and even normally calm, cool and collected me got mighty annoyed. Good thing her huge purse was open, with some sort of mug or glass sitting just below the lip, empty. When she finally did depart my presence with her two friends, let’s just say that little miss thang unknowingly took care of my empty beer bottle for me, saving me a trip out of the crowd. I wonder how long it took her to notice it sticking out of the top of her purse. Hrm.