Hard Rock, Sore Throats, Hot Bass Players and Getting Old

I'm only 26, but when did I get so "old"? It's like it happened with a flick of a switch, when I wasn't paying attention, just trying to pay the bills and keep myself happy. Last night, though it was a Thursday (wow, that makes me sound real lame), I braved the unknown nightlife of Kansas to try to regain a semblance of my youth by doing something as simple as staying up past 9:30 and seeing a real rock show, something that I haven't done in the longest time.

Last night was the big show I had been waiting for for months, Sick Puppies in downtown Lawrence playing with The Veer Union and headliner Hurt. My excitement was in the chance to see Sick Puppies, who I've been a fan of since their first album was released in 2006. With the show being right here in town and their new album "Tri-Polar", which I just had to go out and snatch the day it came out (see Those Are Some "Sick" Sick Puppies) blasting holes in my car stereo speakers, I felt this was my opportunity to strip myself of my old man status and act like the rocker of old days that was seeing rock show after rock show excited over every riff and lyric.

The show was at The Granada, an old school looking music venue on Massachusetts St. in downtown Lawrence. KJ and I showed up in time to see the opener, a local Kansas City band called Black Oxygen. They put on a decent 20 minute or so set and made way for The Veer Union, who is known for their single Seasons, which gets quite a bit of play on the local alternative rock stations around here. Their set was highlighted by a dangerous looking mohawk, a drum set set off to the side of the stage due to lack of space, and some kicking tunes. As enjoyable as they were, we stood back at watched from the back of the pit, taking it in and waiting for our chance to truly rock out.

Once The Veer Union finished, I set aside my walker, grabbed KJ and walked to the floor in front of the stage and rocked out like you're supposed to at a rock show as Sick Puppies commanded the room. The modest sized crowd surged around us as we were pushed forward to the very front with Shim (the lead guitarist and vocalist) hovering over us and bating us on to keep moving and making as much noise as we could. I sure as hell didn't hold back. I belted out every lyric that I could, which was most of them, and shouted my excitement like I did in my college days, rocking it out for Foo Fighters or Three Days Grace. (We saw some very good shows back in those days.)

Shim really owned it song after song and Mark truly held his own behind his kit, but there's really no way to sugar coat it, Emma, the bass player, was smoking hot. There is nothing much hotter than to see an attractive woman rocking out on a stage, ripping the hell out of her instrument and looking damn fine in the process. At some points it was hard taking my eyes away, seeing her so intense and into the music, head banging in her tall black boots and short skirt. Heck, even KJ admitted she would tap that. That's saying something when your girlfriend tells you that. It's sad that I didn't have the guts to go say hi and check out her hot Australian accent at the meet-and-greet after the set, but watching the show was a treat in itself.

Sadly, after Sick Puppies, our geriatric ways kicked back in after a couple of songs into Hurt's set. I'd never heard of them until this show and I didn't know any of their tunes. (I did really dig their tune "Ten Ton Brick".) Their music was heavy, intense and most definitely gut busting in the best of ways, but we were both exhausted and dreading the work day that was to follow.

I hate to admit I left early, at only 10:30 to boot, I'm usually the last one to want to leave early from a rock show, especially after paying good money to be there, but we'll take it one step at a time. Me protecting my lady from the moshers and screaming myself hoarse to the lyrics of Sick Puppies was more than a small step to my reintroduction to non-loser-dome.

The Roll-Off-Your-Tongue Factor

What makes a song a good song? Is it the lyrics, the music, the hook(s), or the feel? Or is it a good song because it's by your favorite artist, you can sing along, or it's structured well?

I guess there really is no one reason why a song is a good song. There are many factors that can weigh in but when it comes down to it, don't you like most songs simply because you like them? You can't describe why you like it, you just can't help but listen to it over and over again.

Besides that, there is one factor that I like to include into the mix that you might not even think about. It's the roll-off-the-tongue factor. What is that? Simply stated, it how the words of a song just seem to make your tongue do a happy dance when you sing along. Even before you truly know the words, you can feel your tongue doing the samba in your mouth in perfect fluid motion worthy of a spot on Dancing With The Stars.

I discovered the roll-off-your-tongue factor when my girlfriend and I were driving from Maine to Kansas in June of 2008. It was about a 1,500 drive which ended up being a 3-day trip, and since we both had a car we were stuck driving alone. There was a lot of music blasting and belting along in those 3 days.

A couple of months earlier I had purchased the new solo album from my fave band Our Lady Peace's lead man, Raine Maida called A Hunter's Lullaby. At the time I was really digging the track, "Yellow Brick Road". Oddly enough, it kinda fit our situation as we were moving to Kansas, home of Dorothy, Toto, and twisters that use houses to attack witches.

I must have listened to that track at least 30 times on that trip. (That and "King" by Weezer.) Each time I sang along I couldn't help but concentrate on what my tongue was doing. (While I was concentrating on the road of course.) I mean, how often do you really think about your tongue? It does so many things on a daily basis without you even thinking about it. It really blows your mind if you think about everything it does while you're sitting at the computer, eating a Nutty Bar, or singing.

"Yellow Brick Road" was the song that made my tongue dance a cha-cha inside my mouth everytime the track blasted out the speakers of my Corolla. Aside from the great lyrics, music, and outstanding performance by one of my favorite artists out there, for me, it's that dance that my tongue does every time I sing along that makes the song so great.

Take a listen to the song in the video below. It's set to footage from our drive from Maine to Kansas as taken by our cell phone cameras. Not the greatest quality, but I think we did a darn fine job if I do say so myself.



"Yellow Brick Road" by Raine Maida courtesy of Nettwerk Records 2007.