I Kan't Spell

 
Ryan Adams in Baltimore Review

Last night I went to see Ryan Adams at the Meyerhoff here in Baltimore. I had seen Ryan before and I was expecting an eclectic original show and instead I got pre-baked, pleated khaki, fat ass old men in Hawaiian shirt rock n' roll. None of which was Ryan's fault. Ryan was great.

It felt like that scene from the Doors where Jim is really drunk or stoned and he looks out over the crowd. He sees people throwing joints at him and wanting him to play certain songs. "PLAY LIGHT MY FIRE JIM!!!". And Jim, being what Jim was, retorted with dissent because he didn't want to be predictable. I don't know what the people last night were expecting but predictable is not what they got.

Ryan came out scruffy with a beard and basically looked and sounded like shit. The sound check must have been all but miffed because he was inaudible to anything played with an electric guitar. His words came out muffled and if you didn't know the songs then you probably sat there wondering what the hell was going on.

Anyway, his backing band the Cardinals were pretty good - I mean it's different seeing him with a backing band since I have only seen the acoustic tours but it was nice to here some rock n' roll instead of an entire show of sad bastard music. The goat is, the fucker sent the band off after 4 songs. He just says "get lost" and then starts playing acoustic guitar and piano solo (and at the same time on Call Me on Your Way Back Home --- which was fuckin hot BTW)

During the acoustic set Ryan starts complaining about his hand. He's had a hurt wrist for a while and I've heard of him doing this in the past. Honestly, he was more disengaged than I have seen him and at one point during the show he came back with his only comedic response that everyone could hear. While waiting for his guitar and smoking a cigarette and sucking on a bottle of what looked like Champagne - some meat head in back of us yells, "Sorry to interrupt you!" to which Ryan responds "Sorry man I am waiting for my guitar. You know, the machine I make noise with." That right there was the high point of the show for me - that and Strawberry Wine which everyone else hated and I adored. How do I know they hated it - well - - - this is where my experience turned sour as all hell.

Have you ever been to a two-hour movie? Sure you have. Have you felt the need to get the fuck out of your seat 6 times and go outside during the movie while other people are watching? NO YOU FUCKING DON'T!!!! Imagine you are watching, I don't know, Signs with Mel Gibson and the scene with the closet and the alien is on and some douche bag fucker - actually - make that 300 douche bag fuckers, decide to get up and take a leak or call their girlfriend or get a drink. Imagine that and feel my anger. So all during the show I'm marking these people with my shaking head and gaffed laughter as they parade back and forth in front of me after already showing up late and talking during tunes. I couldn't have been more disappointed with the evening thus far.

After one of the songs Ryan says his wrist hurts and he's going to need a minute for a Cortisone shot. So he leaves for like 15 minutes. People go outside. The house lights all come up. The place turns from an intimate setting with wobbling fat bastards who are suffering from a perpetual pissing disease to a mob of people heading for the exits. I refuse to get up. I'm not mad at Ryan. I'll never be mad at one of my favorite songwriters. I imagine a concert with him as is he were inviting me into his home to play for me. I would never be rude enough to not appreciate his hospitality and the chance to see one of the most interesting enigmatic performers of my generation play in the most beautiful building in my city. So I sit there. I sit. Sit.. sit... sit...

Then here comes old scruffy beard face coming through the crowd. He's smoking a cigarette and he's armed with an acoustic guitar. This looks cool to me and at first I smile and realize that I am now a part of something special. He meanders around for a little bit and then settles right in the middle of the seating section asking for a stool so he can sit and play. This ladies and gentlemen is where I lose my shit a little.

I found the gesture to play in the middle of the crowd to be different and possibly even very generous to those few lucky fans who got to see him that close. Personally, I found Ryan to be hamming it up a little. He loves to feed that ego of his, but you know what I already knew that, and to be honest that's really one of the reasons I love him. But, what I didn't love was this; the fat fuckers in striped shirts, with their annoying belly shirt wearing girl friends, and their flip-flops and fucking FUCKING FUCKING pleated docker pants and KAE SIGMA TAU shirts on. These fuckers who left 3 times during the first 8 songs to get beers and laugh in the hallways, these fuckers then cow tow back in, now noticing that Ryan is off the stage, they hustle to get a view. They are now clamoring over each other to see something "special". YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! THE SHOW YOU WERE WATCHING WAS SPECIAL. THIS IS A PLOY TO GET YOUR ATTENTION. So these bastards are standing on chairs and railings and are wanting to catch a glimpse or a word or an intimate glance from a performer that they couldn't be bothered with more than 20 minutes ago. You fake fucking sons of bitches.

I apologize for the cursing but man was I livid. I have never, ever, ever EVER EVER left a rock concert early. NEVER. I walked outside and smoked a cigarette. I walked back in and told Charles that we were fucking leaving. I had had enough of the sheep that were crawling over each other to see something that they were already getting but couldn't appreciate it because it wasn't what they were considering to be special 30 minutes prior. I hope all you plaid shirt wearing, designer jean owning, mussed up hair gel wearing motherfuckers choke on your cocks. I hope you are at work today telling people how awesome your time was. I hope somewhere in the many people you tell someone calls you a pathetic posing liar who deserves to attend REO Speedwagon and Journey reunion tours for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, he did play Sylvia Plath later that night and I missed it. Here is what the herd is saying about the show. Fucking sheep.
Link posted by JVMM : 10:28 AM