I have a confession to make—and, since I'm making this in public, in the 'street' of the internet and on the pages of my blog, I guess it's going to be a public confession. Well, so be it. Thing is just that, until now—well, until last December,when I bought the tickets—I was never motivated to go to a rock concert. Nor to anything musical qualifying for the label 'pop'.
Why not? Probably because of 'life' and wherever I was in my head. Bottom line is that I really can't think of a group, musician or singer for whom I would have considered it worth the time, the effort and the money to go. It's kind of funny, and maybe ironic, that finally, at an age that probably placed my wife and I into the upper five percentile in the seniority stakes of those attending, I did find someone that made it worth my while, here and now. The time and the place and Foo Fighters.
The place: The Brisbane Entertainment Centre, Boondall, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.
Very fucking cool. Loud, with the basses providing an interesting internal massage. Adrenaline churning stuff. Basically 'Whoa!'
The most memorable segment: when they did But Honestly, which is a fav of mine, but in this context it was terminally overwhelming and sent shivers down my spine. (I include the YouTube clip here again.)
The whole thing was magic. What more can I say? Very loud magic.