The line that went down the block, around the corner and then around yet another corner. It was long.
Longest line ever...ok, maybe not, but it was very long :o)And even though it was surprisingly chilly (damn you springtime, when will you come to us! (springtime rant over)) and I was tired from having been ill, it still made me feel good to get to a gig and have to line up.
I’d gotten tired of getting to gigs either right when the main act began or even a few songs into their act, so this was refreshing. Made me feel like it was 8 years ago when I was in the throes of my live gigs overload.
Getting closer, can almost make out marquee...almost.But back to the show.
Well, we still have a bit more to let out before the show begins. Please indulge me.
Ok, this next bit is to the staff of Webster Hall. Your bouncers, i.e. guys who check IDs and such are lovely. Sweet, friendly guys. Thanks for hiring people who know how to deal with the public.
Your General Manager? An ass. Actually I take it back as I’d be insulting asses all over the world. He’s just a jerk.
Why am I maligning this guy?...
So my concert buddy and I enter the venue after having lined up outside for a bit and it’s still early, so we don’t pop upstairs right away. Instead we walk around the t-shirt stand and do some browsing. She’s just walking along, about a foot away from the wall when suddenly a door opens (from said wall) and hits her full on on her right arm. I should point out that this door was painted the same color as the wall and there was no warning that it was opening. She winces, the guy gets out and sort of grabs her arm in the most ‘hey look how I seem concerned yet haven’t apologized’ way. She just backs away and I guess gives him a dirty look...which hey people do when they’ve just been hurt. This gentleman of gentlemen then barks ‘You should watch where you’re going’. Great. Now it’s our fault that we didn’t anticipate that a seemingly permanently shut door would suddenly pop open with full force.
So my friend, not very surprisingly, called him an asshole. She didn’t yell at him, didn’t chase him, didn’t touch him – she just called him an asshole. Ok, I’m thinking that’s it. He’s fucked up, she’s barked at him, that would’ve been the end of it with most normal people. But no. Because this guy apparently had power trip issues.
He (all 6 foot plus of him) comes back at my friend and starts threatening to evict her. ‘Would you like to continue this outside?’ er… what’s going to happen then? Was he planning on physically assaulting my friend? ‘I’m the general manager here. You know I can have you thrown out.’ Meanwhile my friend is just saying, ‘You hurt my arm.’ And he’s continuing to just belittle us, using the fact that we obviously want to see the show to just abuse his power.
First off – way to go you jerk. You successfully managed to intimidate two short women. I wonder if you would’ve done the same if we had had our boyfriends/husbands with us. And really, what the hell were you going to do if she took you up on the offer to go outside? Were you seriously contemplating assaulting a woman who called you a bad word? A woman who was more than a foot shorter than you? Wow – you’re quite the man. So thanks so much for just being a despotic jerk with delusions of grandeur (and a really thin skin).
But it wouldn’t be a gig at the Emmanuel Lewis Hall (as an acquaintance put it) if some shitty thing didn’t happen. Have I mentioned before how much I loathe Webster? Bah. But musicians I love, choose to play there so I trek on over thinking the next time will be better. Sigh. When will I learn?
After we recoup a bit from the jerk-in-authority from hell, we make our way upstairs. It’s not quite a packed house yet as Morrissey is only due to go on at 10 pm and it was only about 8:30, but it’s still pretty full. We made our way over to the right side of the stage, near the archway to the bar...yeah, that wasn’t a good spot ;o)
Moz is not due to start for ages and yet people are already being really rowdy and disruptive – ‘Whoa! You’re stoned man.’ Actual words said by those behind us. And hey, if you feel like getting stoned at a Morrissey show more power to you. I don’t quite see the appeal, but then again, I guess I’ve always been a square ;o) when it comes to things like that. But my tolerance stops when you keep on bumping/hitting me and my friend repeatedly because you’re doing some sort of crazy ‘high’ dance with your pals. Sigh.
So before the show even begins we’ve already had to move due to annoying people. But hey such is the life of a concert goer :o)
Around 9ish, the opening band went on – The Courteeners – who all had fab haircuts (lead singer resembled god knows how many different singers – cross between Liam Gallagher and oh, about 15 different indie bands’ lead singer) and all well, sounded like 15 other bands. They played well and the singer’s banter was nice enough – the one thing I completely understood was ‘We’re from Manchester and it’s an honor to be supporting Morrissey.’ Oh and that the Webster Hall was only their 3rd gig in NYC, and their 2nd with Morrissey.
They were capable enough, but honestly, after about 15 minutes, I was mentally willing them to leave the stage. It just all sounded like a pastiche of every band that’s come out of the UK for the last couple of years. Catchy, bouncy music, but awfully derivative.
I spent most of the time they were on stage staring at their backdrop cloth where they’d had their name projected on, trying to figure out how the lettering had been done…I don’t think that’s a particular good sign vis-à-vis one’s interest in the band that’s playing ;o)
Fascinating lettering that had me enthralled...yeah, i might have ADD or something ;o)They stop playing around 9:40ish and then we wait for a bit for Morrissey to come on. Gave me and the concert buddy a chance to look around – Webster Hall has had a face lift since we were there last. The zodiac signs and bas reliefs are gone, replaced with the more tasteful (?) non-descript gold decorations…oh, and a whole south of France cabana vibe, complete with an awning in the balcony.
And now that the backdrop cloth to the opening band is gone, we get to see Morrissey’s backdrop – a gigantor b+w photo of a young sailor flexing his muscles while munching on a cigar. I heart Morrissey :o)
'This backdrop will be muy macho, right?' ;o)Anywho, pretty much at 10 on the spot (which the bouncers had announced would be his start time) Morrissey comes on to the screams of the crowd. Started out strong with one of the three Smiths’ songs he was to play that evening, This Charming Man, which had everyone happily singing along. The other two he played were Ask and How Soon is Now. I was happy with the mix of songs, some new, some older, some Smiths, but then again I’m only a fan-Lite ;o) unlike my friend who, has I mentioned, is the uber fan. She thought he overlooked far too many albums and felt that he should’ve had at least one song from each solo outing.
He went on to play some great songs from the new album - I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris - as well as two of my new favorites, Shame Is the Name, and damn-this-song-is-good, Something Is Squeezing My Skull, which addresses the peddling of and overmedication of us all by the lovely folks at the pharmaceutical companies.
He addressed the crowd quite a few times, but I didn’t quite catch everything he said, for one, I had to have my ears all plugged up with tissue paper, to avoid having my eardrums being blown out by the ridiculously loud shriekers/screamers right next to me, and two, well, he doesn’t always enunciate ;o)
One of Morrissey's many costume changes...ok, shirt changes.I did catch one thing towards the end of the gig. He came out and introduced the band by their, well, names, and then when he came to himself he said ‘And well, I’m a myth.’ :o)
In between all this, there were quite a few costume changes, i.e. stripping of the very sweaty button down shirts, which left the women and young men behind me in quite a tizzy. I believe there was quite some talk about Morrissey’s sweaty titties and what could be done to alleviate it, i.e. wear a lighter colored shirt, etc. Yes, mental giants all behind me.
He also played Irish Blood, English Heart which has become a big fave of mine, particularly b/c of his mention of disowning Oliver Cromwell, as I’ve been reading up on British history of late...so now I get what he’s talking about there :o)
Yes, Morrissey, i too am touched by your music :o)They finished up and came back for the encore – The Last of the Gang to Die - which my friend spookily predicted… Ok, not so spookily since she’d seen him already at the Welmont Theater in Montclair – apparently he’s not really changing the set at all.
All in all, notwithstanding the boorish behavior of some crowd members (but such is always the way at Webster) and the really inexcusable behavior of certain staff members which will remain nameless - only b/c I don’t know their name - I’m talking to you, Webster Hall General Manager ;o) – this was quite a good show. Morrissey is still coming out with great new material, topical and catchy. I certainly hope to see him again soon...just not at Webster Hall ;o)
