Musical Interlude

by Natalie P.

July 14, 2007 | Filed Under Music, The Heartless Bitch Way | No Comments

I haven’t been writing much lately as I’ve been out at the Bluesfest for the last 8 days straight.  Despite the appearance of Bob Dylan (“Is he speaking English?”  “No, he’s speaking mumble.”), and Van Morrison, it’s not been as good a fest for me as in previous years. Yes, I’ve seen some interesting smaller back-stage acts, like The Love Machine (“We’ll be in the autograph tent signing autographs for our parents after the show…”), Ukrainia, and Mihirangi, to name but a few, but the mainstage acts just haven’t thrilled me as much this year.  Yes, there was the perennial favorite, Blue Rodeo with Jim Cuddly, er, Cuddy, and it was cool to stand there and hear 25,000 people singing in unison to their favorite songs, but other than that and a brilliant performance by The White Stripes, there hasn’t been anyone else I *really* wanted to see.  I saw Steve Miller back when they were popular.  Manu Chao was just annoying.  Randy Newman was good, and I enjoyed both his poking fun at has-been bands (Getting the audience to sing “You’re DEAD” as part of the chorus), and the quote from his wife: “We have two boys and a girl. My wife said that if we’d had the girl first, we would have thought the boys were retarded.”

George Thorogood and the Destroyers put on a great show and were seasoned entertainers, as was Gary US Bonds, but if they weren’t already at the Bluesfest, I wouldn’t have bought tickets just to see them.    Hedley was hilarious but I’m sure they weren’t going for outrageously funny.  The lead singer out Jaggered Mick. He PRANCED around the stage, preening and pirouetting, and leaping like some puckish sprite while singing and sweating madly. I found it amusing that all these 14-year-olds were screaming and lusting after someone who was so blatantly flaming.  And then, of course, he bared his ass for the last number, and those cherubic cheeks had “Hedley” tattooed across them. All I can say is that the way he pranced around with his butt hanging out, and the front of the shorts BARELY above  his member, it was clear that boy must shave his pubes – ’cause nary a tuft or errant hair was to be seen sprouting from those shorts.  Music? What music? Oh, yeah, it was a MUSIC festival…

On the other hand, Virgin Fest in Toronto next month will have Smashing Pumpkins, Arctic Monkeys, The Killers, Metric, and a bunch of other great bands that I’d actually really like to see perform live, so we are definitely taking in that festival.

Bluesfest is more of a social thing. We all get festival passes, and so we go each night, regardless of the lineup, to socialize, listen to some old favorite or discover something new.  Tonight, Metric was playing on the River stage (one of the smaller venues), while INXS was on the main stage. I was bummed that they were on at the same time, but given that I saw Metric last year (AWESOME show!) and I’ll be seeing them next month, I opted to see INXS because I never saw them back in the day when Hutchence was alive, so I wanted to take the opportunity to see them this time.

Someone should tell JD to shut up and just sing. He has a great voice, and certainly can pull off the numbers, but he shouldn’t try to do anything more than that. He appeared to be quite loaded (pulling from a bottle of champagne on the stage, and smoking, *something*) and tried to get philisophical and deep during some of the performance. From what I can tell, he has all the depth of a puddle after a rainstorm, and the fact that he forgot what he was going to say at one point didn’t improve my regard.  The other band members were talking amongst themselves from time to time and it looked from our vantage like they really weren’t impressed with JD. There certainly didn’t seem to be much chemistry between him and the other band members.   Of course, the quips and comments from our crowd were fast and furious.

JD: “Have Fun everyone!”

“Oh, you’ve had more than enough for all of us.”

“They can just write off the hotel room damage deposit.”

“What is with the hair thing?? Someone needs to tell him his hair is just FINE. He should stop constantly fussing with it.”

“What is with the weird-ass stuff he is doing with his hands? It’s creeping me out.” (he kept moving his hands in some kind of afflicted way)

It wasn’t a bad show – they played most of the good old stuff and he did a credible job of it, and he did a brilliant Johnny Cash tune, but on the whole, I wouldn’t pay to see them a second time.

I think we will take a break tomorrow and go to the cottage. I’m festivaled-out. I think I need to sit on a dock and fish for a while with nothing but the sound of the wind in the trees and the loons on the lake.

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