The music not seen
I’ve seen Springsteen several times, including a couple of shows before he became “the Boss.” Saw Joplin in San Francisco and Simon and Garfunkel in Forest Hills. Saw The Doors as an opening act
Was there for Creedence, the Mamas and the Papas, Itzhak Perlman, Queen. I’ve seen Dylan live at least several times.
And when I was younger, saw Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry and a lot of others at Murray the K’s shows at the Brooklyn Fox. The Drifters, Ben E. King, the Shirelles, Jackie Wilson, saw them all.
So, yeah, I’ve seen a reasonable amount of live music, been there to hear the unmediated sound, to feel that pulse of in-person excitement, to share that frisson only live music can offer.
But instead of reveling in the memories of how fortunate I was to see all those performers live and in their prime, all I can think of recently is all the performers and performances I could have seen—all the shows that were available to me—that I didn’t see. The bands and performers that I wish I had seen.
I could have tried to go to Shea Stadium in 1965 to see the Beatles. I was the right age and reasonably adventurous and lived in New York but didn’t pick up on the possibility. My friend Marty went and, although he couldn’t hear a damn thing with all the screaming going on, he’ll always be able to say he saw the Beatles live.
My wife saw the Rolling Stones at Hyde Park in London, in the first concert they did after the death of founding member Brian Jones. She had to wait hours and could barely see them they were so far away, but still. I’ve been there for cover bands doing “Satisfaction,” but never been there for the band that did it first and best.
I went to school walking distance from the Apollo Theatre, but I never went there to see James Brown or Aretha. Was once going to see the Four Tops—still love “Reach Out (I’ll Be There)”—and something, don’t remember what, came up.
When Woodstock happened, I was, I think, in Atlanta, covering a Mets baseball game. Would I have gone to Woodstock if I’d been closer? Hendrix, The Who, Jefferson Airplane? I’d like to think so, but man, all that rain and traffic and mud. So, I really don’t know.
When the Concert for Bangladesh happened—ten blocks away from where I was living, in 1971—I was around. But I didn’t go. No George, Ringo, Clapton.
I did see Tony Bennett but never saw Sinatra. I’ve seen the Taylor Swift movie but never Taylor in person.
I’ve always loved the Kinks and have a fondness for the Dave Clark Five but never got around to seeing either of the bands. Saw the Zombies, but what about the Animals? They also played, I think, at the Brooklyn Fox. Why didn’t I go to see them? I really loved “House of the Rising Sun” and “We Gotta Get Out of This Place.”
Most of all, when I moved to Paris, at least in part because of the songs of Jacques Brel, I never got to see Jacques Brel live and in person while he was still living in Paris. (I did get to see Georges Brassens, who was even Frenchier than Brel, but it wasn’t the same.)
I know it’s not healthy, particularly at a certain age, to think of what could have been, maybe should have been, instead of what was. But I wish I had taken the opportunity when the opportunity arose.
Do you feel that way, too? Are there bands and performers you wish you had seen, live and in person? That with just a little effort you could have seen?