I saw Smokey Robinson and the Miracles first, I believe. But that was as a very young kid at Disneyland with my parents and cousins. It doesn't count. My very first genuine rock concert was... Steve Miller's Fly Like an Eagle tour, San Diego. I was a young lad, but I went with a friend and his older brother and without mom and dad. And everyone there was smoking the marihuana!
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"Kiss." "Fly Like an Eagle" was a song my metallic friends liked to hold up for sneering ridicule. Now I own a "Best of" album of Steve Miller's older stuff (before he went custom van).
"ME AND my metallic friends liked to hold up for sneering ridicule."
Didn't meant to absolve myself.
I know. Look, I was all of 12 years old or so. I was into Kiss too, and Led Zeppelin. But I was also back temporarily after years abroad where I was mostly exposed to Brit pop (Pilot!) and stuff like Cat Stevens. Steve Miller was a psychedelic trip into the universe of the mind given that background.
Wow. Smokey.
My first was a horrible Doobie Bros. with th' stupid Cars opening. I thought it was preposterous. God, did that prime me for punk rock.
Everybody was getting all wrecked on th' evil weed and the stupid longhair Doobie Bro. singer was like *bring it up to the stage so the proper authorities can get rid of it*.
Oh, it was horrible. I don't know if my twelve-year-old self was more disgusted by th' AOR tosser audience or the whole bring-your-weed-up police state crap.
It had a lot more influence on me than any good show ever did.
Jesus, Bobby. I'm sorry. "Space blues" or whatever they were calling Steve Miller's lethargic bunk is a lot less offensive than the Doobie Bros wanting to take your doobies to the authorities.
Somewhat relatedly, there was a blues bar (quickly defunct, I believe) in DC called something like "Smokeless." You could go listen to live blues in a wholesome, smoke-free environment. They may have even required you to turn your frown upside down at the door.
My first concert was more in the nature of a "teen dance" at Our Town's Heritage Holidays festival back in the mid 60's. It was hipper than I realized at the time, featuring the McCoys ("Hang On, Sloopy") with Rick Derringer along with James Brown and the Famous Flames (!).
Later, we moved to the Big City, where (in 1970) I enjoyed Three Dog Night with special guest Uriah Heep (!).
Loved the Heep, by the way. Still do.
Among teen metal heads, 12 gets you tried as an adult.
My first concert was Pat Boone at the Angeles Temple -- I was ten years old. Growing up pentecostal we didn't attend dances, movies, rock concerts, or listen to "secular" music - so Pat Boone at the Temple was a pretty memorable event. Debbie Boone even made a special appearance to sing a duet with her father
I saw my first rock concert in 1979 when I was a senior in High School. It was Fleetwood Mac at the Fabulous Forum on their "Tusk" tour backed up by the USC Marching Band. The concert was cool - especially with the marching band, but I was overwhelmed by the crowds and the smoke.
Cool, Lonesome Polecat. We're two against MT's one now.
I'm sorry, Pentecostal Boy. Hearing Pat Boone must have been as psychologically scarring as Bobby's doobie being taken up by a Doobie.
Pantera with Type O-Negative opening.
I was fifteen and discovered the joys of the mosh pit and crowd surfing.
Pantera! Dude! That might be worse than Steve Miller.
Actually, I have nothing against Pantera. I don't even know their music. I simply picture them with lots of hair.
Joan Jett was also one of my first rock concerts. She opened for someone else - I can't remember who at all (it wasn't the Police). Only Joan Jett.
Joan Jett was also one of my first rock concerts. She opened for someone else - I can't remember who at all (it wasn't the Police). Only Joan Jett.
Figures.
What? The forgetfulness?
Who, among us, remembers clearly their first rock concerts?
The Kinks in a small theatre in Mainz, Germany in 1964. Unsure of what we were up to, my girlfriend's mother had to go along.
Lucky you, Richard. I would have loved to have been there. It took me until this year to see Ray Davies live. Neddie Jingo, XTCFan, me, and Helmette. Nice show, nice company. But it wasn't the Kinks and Dave Davies' little green amp.
It figures because within the scope of manhood you were but a babe, and so was Joan "I...LOVE...(my leather body suit)" Jett.
Then The Who in an auditorium, across the river, in Wiesbaden, Germany in the 1965, where a classmate stole one of their Marshall amps.
Dammit, Richard! I've got Steve Miller and Joan Jett. Toss in some nonsense like The Motels. You've got the Kinks and the Who before they went adult and everything.
I'm now covering my ears and "nah nah nah"-ing.
A 2 day festival in 1967 in Zurich: Jimi, John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, The Animals, The Move, Traffic...I'm fuzzy on the rest; all at an indoor bicycle racing track. For some reason, completely unknown to me to this day, the people in the A seats, which were folding wooden chairs in the flat center section of the arena (the track itself was banked and done in strip wood like flooring), began tearing the chairs apart and throwing sections at Jimi, hooting and booing all the while. Very strange.
"Nah nah nah, hmmmm deed dum do...."
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