Something like six months ago, I purchased tickets to go see Metallica as a gift to FryDaddy, who has a metal streak. I've gone to a number of concerts in my day, although metal has never been my style. What the heck, right? I mean, Metallica has been around since the early 80s and - let's face it - to be around in any kind of live performance music scene for the better part of 25 years means that you've grown up and figured a few things out.
Very true for the band. Less so for some of the fans.
Sigh. I grow old.
The show was a lot of fun, after I re-set my brain. It's been a l-o-n-g time since I'd "done" an arena show and I'd forgotten about opening acts (a French metal band? Really? And another whose specialty really seemed to be throat-clearing. I guess I'm just a sucker for lyrics) and the dangerous mixture of overpriced beer, cigarettes, and rednecks with a babysitter watching the kids at home. Before I become too much of a curmudgeon, I must say that the folks in our row were actually fantastic - and even the half-baked fanboys behind us were polite in their own way. Nevertheless, my clothes were in the washer before I dropped off to an exhausted sleep.
But you go to a show for the main act, not the cannon fodder openers. (OK, one day, they might be huge. Don't care. ) Metallica did a great show - high energy, amazing effects that weren't overdone and a highly enthusiastic crowd. And I have to respect not only the band's longevity and three-generation fanbase, but nigh-unbelievable speed and substantial lyrical range.
But I'm older now and the workweek starts early.