Last night I was originally going to see Steel Pulse* at the Roxy with Christina, but then Meg called and said that she had two tickets to see The Roots and Wilco at the Greek. She had bought them when they first went on sale and they were up near the tree line. Then she went on Ebay and got good seats for face value, hence she now had two extra tickets and she was offering them to me! So I called Christina and she was up for making a change in venue. And note to self Ebay is a good place to get concert tickets because the seats she bought there were amazing.
We got to the Greek a little after 7:30 and although they stack parking we scored and the parking dude left our car on the end with easy access to an exit road. The Roots were already jamming when we got to the good seats that Meg was going to sit in for the Wilco part of the show. I love Wilco, but they’re not always consistent, e.g. it might be a angsty evening, and I can sit in the trees and enjoy the show. The Roots on the other hand make me want to stand and wiggle my butt and wave my hands in the air like I just don’t care. So I did. They were jammin’ the Zepplin and it was so tight.
The theater was only about one third full when Meg and Curtis showed up halfway through their set and sat with us. When they announced the show I thought it was a strange combo. Energetically two very different experiences. At the break Meg and Christina and I noticed a guy a couple of rows down. Meg said, “He’s a professional surfer, I think. Not Buzzy Kerbox, but someone from that era.” He was definitely cute and he had that surfer vibe and we wanted to know who he was.
He came and sat in the row in front of us and Meg tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he was from Huntington Beach. He turned and said, “Already with the tapping?” Like people were tapping him all the time or something. She said that we’d seen him when he was a few rows below earlier and he was like, “So you were watching me.” We laughed and said yeah and started playing with him because he seemed a little crazy. You know how those guys who've spent too much time in the sun can be? On closer inspection I started wondering if he really was a surfer because he was so delicate that it looked like a strong wind would blow him off a board. He was also wearing what appeared to be vintage trousers, like something Beck would wear, but they were smudged a la homeless man. He was however sporting a backstage pass. After we freaked him out and he left I realized that he was not a surfer, but rather he was Dermott Mulroney. The actor. Who probably thought we were crazy stalker chicks poking at him and teasing him. Because he knows he’s an actor, but he did not know that we had no idea and thought he was a surfer dude who probably knew Buzzy Kerbox.
Yeah, so that was fun. And then Wilco came on stage and I love Jeff Tweedy. I think he’s an amazing song writer, but this last album he decided to add some disonant guitar at the end of a lot of his songs. This does not work for me. I found it annoying and decided that it would be better to skip the encore and get out of the parking lot while the getting was good. Since the Greek Theater sits in the middle of an affluent neighborhood in Los Feliz the shows end early anyway and my thinking was this…
Get out and get on down the road to the Roxy and catch the end of the Steel Pulse show. And that’s just what we did! Bouncing and sweating to the awesome reggae beats of one of my favorite bands to see in concert was the perfect way to end the night. I even made it home by midnight. I love the fact that I got to jam with the Roots and bob to Wilco and boogie with Steel Pulse because I hate to miss anything.
The whole evening was a perfect Wilco sandwich.
*When I was cleaning out my purse last night I noticed on the ticket stub that I went and saw Steel Pulse. And I actually knew that, but I'm having a hard times with names. Currently when I meet a guy and I can't remember what his name is I just call him Dave knowing/hoping that he'll correct me and the humiliation will help me remember. I may have made up the name Burning Spear, although I do believe I've seen them too at some point in my addled past.