My first concert was Lollapalooza ‘94. Go big or go home, right? I was newly 18, newly graduated… and newly over mononucleosis, which made my mother nervous. In fact, she made me stay at my grandparents’ house the night before instead of with my friends at a hotel.
Despite this somewhat undignified beginning, I was vibrating with excitement when my boyfriend — Todd — came to pick me up. In my Doc Martens, jean shorts, flannel, and snarky, anti-homophobia t-shirt, I was ready to join the crowd of grunge-y thousands on Harriet Island in St. Paul.
Thirty years later, my memories of that day are snapshots:
Trying to figure out how to get in with the milling crowds and endless fence.
Finding our friends on the hill — with a perfect view of the main stage — without the help of any sort of space age tech like a “cell phone.”
The roar as The Breeders took the stage.
The exhilaration and terror of being mosh-pit-adjacent with my friend Jess for the Beastie Boys’ set. (You were right, Mike D, I definitely had black boogers after that.)
Feeling the ground start to thump when I was off at the Porta Potties, and realizing that George Clinton just took the stage (with the P-Funk All-Stars, of course).
Watching the sun go down as my friend Eric sang along with the entire Smashing Pumpkins set at the top of his lungs.
Sitting in a Perkins at 11pm, realizing that my entire body was burned to a crisp.
It was epic.
I was behind the majority of my friend group in my exposure to live music — at least, the popular kind. I had certainly attended more than my fair share of choir concerts and musicals with my family. My friend Sacheen, on the other hand, managed to convince her mom to let her go down to First Ave to see The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Sooooooo rad.
My first experience at First Ave was the summer before my senior year of high school. A group of us from Drama Club were down in Minneapolis for a workshop at The Guthrie Theater. In our downtime, we were basically unsupervised (luckily we were all pretty good kids) so off we went to the Sunday Night Dance party. It was all ages, the music was from a DJ, but we were there and it was awesome. I have had many incredible experiences with live music at First Ave since that night — many of them involving my rockstar brother — but there will always be something special about this initial introduction to the coolest music venue in the world (fight me).
After I graduated from college, my friend Elly and I discovered a band called Dazy Head Mazy, and they immediately had my heart for playing the themes to two of my favorite childhood shows: The Dukes of Hazzard and The Greatest American Hero. We quickly found out that they played a Wednesday residency at O’Gara’s Bar in St. Paul (our stomping grounds) and became groupies. (Band-Aids, probably, because we never slept with any of the band members.) The band eventually noticed that we were always there, and a couple of them took the time to get to know us and chat a bit. It was a fun period, and I think of it sometimes when I watch how fans interact with my brother and his bandmates.
For a while in my early 20s, I saw some BIG shows. I was waiting tables, so often it was through the generosity of others that I was able to see these acts. Friends brought me to see Sting (with Tracy Chapman opening!) for my 23rd birthday. My brother took me to see the Dave Matthews Band and Phish (not together!) My roommate and I braved the teenagers and their Hot Moms to see Britney Spears. My parents bought tickets for the family to see Bob Dylan, and experienced the awkward moment when we knew the people behind us… and they got mad that we were all standing up during the concert. This era was capped with my first birthday gift from Dan — we spent my 25th birthday seeing Elton John and Billy Joel. We also saw Poison at the Minnesota State Fair that summer, and I was thrilled that I had found a guy who loved seeing live music as much as I did.
It struck me a year or so ago that, for the last two decades, the majority of my concert experiences have revolved around 1) the summer — because teaching, and 2) seeing Tim perform as much as possible. I’ve been introduced to some amazing bands this way: Shakey Graves, Jenny Lewis, Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway, and Amigo the Devil just to name a few. In addition, sometimes Trampled gets to play with/near/alongside/in-the-orbit-of some glorious, larger-than-life outfit. In this way, I have seen The Avett Brothers, Kanye West, Willie Nelson, and Robert Plant/Alison Krauss. The other great thing about seeing music primarily in the summer is that it is all outdoors! Massive crowds are less uncomfortable for me when I can see the sky.
I made it a goal this year to see some music unrelated to family connections. Lo and behold, John Mellencamp is playing on Dan’s birthday this year, and neither one of us has seen him. So we’re going to suck on a couple of chili dogs and do what we please.
We’re probably skipping the chili dogs, come to think of it. Life goes on.
Thanks for reading.
Love, Susie
Some musical experiences give you the best kind of elation and the memory takes you back to the feeling, like the first time I saw Les Miserables; I hear the music and I am swept away.
DHM CD is still in my car. Every so often I blast Not Raven and think of how much fun we had going to see them. And darts. We played a lot of darts back then.