I just finished posting the 12 best concerts I've ever seen. Rather than have them all in 12 separate posts, I thought I'd consolidate the list here. I was recently digging through a pile of ticket stubs I've saved,
finding cool concert after cool concert, from high school, college and
especially, these last six years since we started Paste
magazine. There are some big omissions—I've still never seen
Springsteen or The Stones. I've only in the last few years checked off
Dylan and Prince (neither made the list and only Prince was close).
Some of the best concerts I picked are obvious choices. Others are more offbeat or
just personal. But all are seared into my memory; for each night, I
stood (or occasionally sat) in awe of the performance that was given. So here are the 12 best concerts I've seen:
Best Concert #12
Radiohead
Oct. 6, 2003, HiFi Buys Amphitheater (Atlanta)
I
kind of figured that my credibility as editor of a national music
magazine was going to be in question if anyone found out I'd never seen
Radiohead live. They were headed to Atlanta in support of Hail To the Thief,
an album that I liked but didn't love. The evening started out poorly
as my will-call ticket was under Josh Paxon, and they only found it
after I'd walked around the entire complex looking for someone to help
me and finally asked them to check under "P" for "Paste." I missed the
opening set from Supergrass, and barely got to my seat in time the main
show. The band started out with four straight songs from Thief,
and that didn't do much to settle me down. But then the setlist went
all over the place, playing "Exit Music (For a Film)," "Paranoid
Android," "Creep," "Idioteque," "National Anthem" and "Fake Plastic
Trees." I found a bunch of my friends from The Brick Store,
and Johnny Greenwood and Ed O'Brien alternated between tearing up their
guitars and making a ruckus from weird electronic gadgets. Cable & Tweed has audio of the whole set here.
I got to meet the band afterwards and hitched a ride home with some
local EMI folks. I've now seen them three times in the last five years
and twice at
whatever they happened to be calling Lakewood/HiFi Buy/Coca-Cola
Amphitheater. All three were great, but my favorite was that first one.
Best Concert #11
Guadalcanal Diary
Sept. 15, 1989, Center Stage (Atlanta)

I've
had a lot of favorite bands through the years, but the one that held
the top spot through my senior year of high school was an Atlanta band
called Guadalcanal Diary. They played literate rock songs on topics as
varied as the Trail of Tears and unexplained visions of The Three
Stooges. The music veered from stately Rickenbacker college rock to
loose-as-hell rockabilly. They were smart and fun. Problem was,
they were on the verge of breaking up soon after my discovery. So my
first time to see them happened to be their final Atlanta show. Each
song that they launched into was one that I'd listened to dozens and
dozens of times on one of their four albums. I crushed my way towards
the very front, danced and sung every lyric of "Watusi Rodeo," "Litany
(Life Goes On)" and "Cattle Prod." Guitarist Jeff Wall went on to play
in another great live band, Hillbilly Frankenstein, and still plays
with The Woggles. Singer Murray Attaway had a very good solo album on
Geffen. And Guadalcanal played a glorious reunion show at the Roxy in
1996. I can't wait for the next one.
Best Concert #10
The Hold Steady
Oct. 25, 2007, The 40 Watt (Athens, Ga.)
Craig Finn really isn't even a singer in the proper sense. He kind of half-drunkenly shouts out stories, and the effect live is like he's talking to the audience all night. There's a shallowness to much of the subject matter—ingesting chemicals and hooking up—but he's still so damn insightful and interesting. He's a little goofy and infectiously happy. And so is the music, sloppy bar rock with big '70s muscular hooks. If you look around the room, everybody has big ol' grins on their faces, including guitarist Tad Kubler and the wonderfully mustachioed keyboardist Franz Nicolay. This was my second time seeing them, but it was part of a road trip to Athens with friends, which makes any show a little better. Plus they played almost every song off Boys and Girls in America, including my favorite, "Stuck Between Stations":
Best Concert #9
Uncle Tupelo
Feb. 11, 1994, The 40 Watt (Athens, Ga.)
As
with Guadalcanal Diary, Uncle Tupelo became my favorite band just in
time for me to catch the farewell tour. Whatever personal problems Jay
Farrar and Jeff Tweedy might have been having offstage, when they
started playing, they were in lock-step. Not since Lennon and McCartney
had a band been as blessed with two songwriters (#98 and #24 on our
list of the 100 Best Living Songwriters), and they took turns at the
mic singing some great ones from their entire catalog: "Chickamauga,"
"Anodyne," "The Long Cut," "Watch Me Fall." Plus old covers that they'd
long since made their own like "Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down."
The bandmates, of course, have gone on to form Son Volt and Wilco, but
it was great to catch them onstage together in a single, wonderful
night.
Best Concert #8
The Ramones
Nov. 22, 1988, Center Stage (Atlanta)

It
all started with a crappy job and a mix tape some guy made for my older
sister. The job was at a one-hour photo place. My two bosses chafed at
my love of '70s classic rock. I'd talk about The Steve Miller Band and
the Eagles, and they'd wonder why I didn't listen to anything new and
play XTC and P.I.L. It was about that same time I borrowed my sister's
mixtape. Among tracks from Drivin' 'n Cryin' and Plimsouls were two
Ramones songs—"I Wanna Be Sedated" and a cover of the Beach Boys "Do
You Wanna Dance?" The band wasn't new—they'd been playing the same four
chords for 14 years—but it was completely new to me. After watching
"Rock and Roll High School" with some friends, we headed to Center
Stage for a Ramones show. The band blew through dozens of two-minute
songs in a couple of hours. There was more leather in the room than I'd
seen in one place, but I was bopping along with everybody, shouting
"Hey Ho! Let's Go!" and saying goodbye to Foreigner forever.
Best Concert #7
U2
Nov. 19, 2005, Philips Arena (Atlanta)

I remember missing the Joshua Tree
tour. My sister went, and I, being the jobless 15-year-old, stayed
home. I remember that The BoDeans opened, and I instead listened to the
Joshua Tree cassette on my boombox. I apparently was one of the few people who actually liked the follow-up, Rattle and Hum, and was initially bored by Achtung Baby, Pop and Zooropa.
So in 2005, I somehow found myself never having seen one of the best
bands of my generation. And they really are. Bono still seems to draw
his energy from the adoring masses, and he acts like it's the first
stadium show he's ever played and is awed by the crowd. There's still
so much joy and camaraderie on the stage, with each of the members
playing off their bandmates. And the catalog is so deep and rich—and
only getting deeper and richer. I was just as excited to hear "City of
Blinding Lights" and "Beautiful Day" as I was to hear "Pride (In the
Name of Love)" and "40." They may be the most hyped live band since The
Beatles, but that's only because they actually live up to it.
Best Concert #6
INXS
March 3, 1988, The Omni (Atlanta)

OK,
before you get in a huff about INXS topping U2 on this list, you need
to know that this is the first concert I went to with my buddies (I'm
not counting Bon Jovi, where we got dropped off). You also need to
notice the seat number above. Somehow we got third row seats in a
15,000-seat arena. We also were among the few to get there in time to
enjoy Public Image Ltd., so I got to hear "This is Not a Love Song"
live. Michael Hutchence & co. put on a great show, but more
importantly I was introduced to the idea of spending an evening with
friends, dancing and singing along to music that we loved—a formula
that would be repeated hundreds of times over the years. Alas, the band
didn't put a good album out after Kick, and has been reduced to
the Reality Show Bin after Hutchence's death. But they launched my love
for live music, and I'll always be grateful.
Best Concert #5
Midnight Oil
Aug. 28, 1993, Lakewood Amphitheater (Atlanta)
A
few people were dropped onto this Earth with a natural ability to
command a stage and lead a crowd through a night of music. Bruce
Springsteen, Bono and Prince all come to mind. But a lot of folks
forget that Peter Garrett could put on a show. I had no idea what to
expect, but the six-and-a-half-foot singer was just a monster on stage.
It was protest music during a decade where no one was singing protest
music, and Garrett's earnest pleas for aboriginal fairness and
environmental awakening were potent; it wasn't a surprise when he left
music for a life of public service. In 1993, the band had just released
the Earth and Sun and Moon, their latest in a slew of great
records (five Oils records got 4.5 stars from All Music Guide). By the
time they played "Beds are Burning," the crowd was nuts. I went
expecting just another rock show and got one of the most memorable
instead.
Best Concert #4
Sufjan Stevens
April 1, 2005

Back
in 1998, we launched an online CD retailer called PasteMusic.com, and
one of the first CDs we added to the site was by a band called Marzuki,
fronted by Shannon Stephens with a multi-instrumentalist named Sufjan
Stevens. It featured accordion, banjo, flutes and sounded like nothing
else I'd heard. When the musicians went their separate ways, Shannon
released a self-titled album with a brilliant song about domestic abuse
called "Catch the Morning Line," and Sufjan recorded a solo album
called A Sun Came with moments of great promise and moments of
silliness, like the line from Super Sexy Woman: "She'll shoot a super
fart/The deadly silent kind." At the time, I'd have put my money on
Shannon. But then came Michigan. And Seven Swans. And then my favorite album of the last decade, Illinois.
I had just heard the latter for the first time a few weeks before
heading up to Grand Rapids, Mich., for The Faith and Music festival,
where I'd been asked to speak. The conference featured Sufjan Stevens,
Daniel Smith from The Danielson Family, Over the Rhine, Dave Bazan from
Pedro the Lion, Denison Witmer, David Eugene Edwards from Sixteen
Horsepower, and Don Peris from the Innocence Mission, all tackling
issues of faith with more nuance and understanding than Nasvhille's
whole Christian music scene. I'd seen Sufjan with his boyscout band
crammed on a tiny stage after Michigan, but here he was with a
band that was more like an orchestra. The swans had been shed for
butterflies. Blow-up Supermans were tossed around the room. He played
"Chicago" and "Casmir Pulaski Day" and "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." while the
projector showed home movies and the audience sat with rapt attention.
There was a distinct feeling that we were launching something akin to
Rites of Spring (albeit without the rioting). Sufjan proceeded to take
over the country, playing vaunted venues like The Lincoln Center in New
York and The Kennedy Center in D.C. But that night, he was still in
Michigan, making a joyful ruckus.
Best Concert #3
Beck
Oct. 28, 2006, The Knitting Factory (New York)

For
the most part, I’ve only listed traditional concerts and left off
festival performances, parties and private shows. But I have to make an
exception for one night in 2006. Unlike almost every other major
magazine in the U.S., Paste had never thrown a party in New
York. We made a conscious decision that our magazine would be based in
Decatur, Ga., but most of the people we work with—record label folks,
publicists, advertisers, etc.—are in Manhattan or Brooklyn. And when we
decided to put on a show at The Knitting Factory for all those folks,
we sent out invitations before the lineup was settled. By the time we
had secured our November cover artist Beck to play—he was already in
town for Saturday Night Live—we already had more RSVPs than
would fit in the 400-person venue. So we kept it a secret. Hem opened
and ?uestlove DJ’d between sets, and everyone seemed to be having a
great time. Other artists who were in town came by, including Ben
Kweller, James Iha. I hopped up on stage along with Jay Sweet, who had
planned the event, and we introduced Beck to a stunned crowd. He’d
agreed to play 30 minutes acoustic, but he brought his whole band, and
for an hour, they played requests. During “Devil’s Haircut,” I was up
in the balcony, feeling like I was on top of the world.
Best Concert #2
Pixies
Oct. 15, 1989, The Roxy Theatre (Atlanta)

Best Concert #1
Arcade Fire
May 1, 2007, Atlanta Civic Center

The first time I saw Arcade Fire was at the Austin City Limits festival in 2005. I was up in the photographer pit for the first few songs, and the band started the show with most of its members singing a capella at the top of their lungs. When we had to leave the pit after a few songs, one of our photographers started babbling, "That was one of those completely transcendent experiences where you glimpse a bit of heaven—but I never have those experiences!" So when the snow kept me from leaving New York on Valentine's Day last year, 1,000 miles away from my beautiful wife, I was at least a little consoled by a ticket to see one of Arcade Fire's intimate kick-off shows for the Neon Bible tour at Judson Memorial Church on Washington Square. Win Butler was sick, but he still led his merry band of Canadians in a glorious ruckus. Like Polyphonic Spree, the sum is much more than the individual parts. Every bandmate looked like they couldn't think of a more fun thing than playing music at that particular moment. Plus, I can't remember a band whose first two albums I love more. That show could have easily taken the top spot, but I saw them again in Atlanta on May 1. Instead of being by myself, most everyone I knew seemed to be there. Atlanta's not known for packing out indie rock shows, but all 4,600 seats were filled—at least until Win invited everyone to come closer, filling the aisles. My publisher Nick Purdy referred to the show as "arena indie rock." One of the guys actually climbed the banister holding onto fans for support. By the time they played "Wake Up," I was ready to declare this my favorite show ever.



not only did i enjoy the list, but i appreciated the casual mention of the connells "fun & games" album. they are certainly one of the great forgotten bands of the late 80s. (i'm also glad to see i'm not the only one with a stash of old ticket stubs.)