Showbiz Kids ("they got the Steely Dan t shirt ...")

The title of this entry (and quoted portion) is borrowed from the song "Showbiz Kids" by Steely Dan so you can guess correctly that this intro will be about my experience at my FIRST Steely Dan concert. And all I can just say is ... WOW .. and it was better than I had ever dreamed/hoped/wished for/imagined it would be.

Just this past Saturday (ok, to be technical it was September 2nd, I am a bit tardy on this one), myself and my good buddy Boogers went to Clarkston, Michigan to see Steely Dan at the DTE Energy Music Theater and what I experienced was .. well ... just as I introduced up above. I will say again that it was beyond and above what I thought my first Steely Dan show would be after all these years of listening to their albums and seeing whatever live video bootlegs I could see and even what was on TV in the past. They say that you haven't experienced a band until you see them live and even afterwards you become a BIGGER fan of them

Well folks, I can safely say that I am now a BIGGER fan and it was a surreal experience. Also it's one I am still stunned and in awe by that I finally saw them.

The musicianship was just simply amazing. It seems as though this version of the band is the best touring band that they had ever assembled (and that's saying alot considering the members who have been in their touring bands in past). They had people who made you think you were listening to the original recordings and even musicians who just made your jaw drop (drummer Keith Carlock in particular and guitarist Jon Herington was his equal). If you're going to perform the music of Walter Becker and Donald Fagen you had better have the best musicians and background singers you can get because it's no small feat.

I am sure you're wondering if I got the tour shirt. And to that I say ... absolutely! I got the black shirt with the AJA album cover on the front and on the back it says "Steely Dan Summer Tour 2006". They had another shirt that was beige and had the Steelyard "Sugartooth" McDan (and the Fab-Originees.com) tour logo and what not on it but I just thought the one I wound up with was way, way, way better in the end (plus much cooler looking and it's one of my favourite albums by The Dan).

So what did they perform? Well here's the setlist from the show:

Turtle Talk or Night In Tunisia (I can't remember but both sound somewhat similar) - Stan Kenton (Instrumental)

Bodhisattva
Time Out Of Mind
Aja
Hey 19
Home At Last
Black Friday
Chain Lightning
Green Earings
I Got The News
Dirty work
(Instrumental introductions and Micheal McDonald joins Steely Dan on stage)
*Show Biz Kids
*Do It Again
*Peg
Dont Take Me Alive
Kid Charlemagne

Encore:

FM
My Old School
Hanks Pad - Henry Mancini (musical jam outro)

* Indicates songs performed by McDonald and Steely Dan together

Also I wish that I could give you my full thoughts on the supporting act, Michael McDonald's set but I arrived about 15 minutes late and was rushing about to find our seats and get something to drink. I will try and provide what I can but from what I heard it was simply amazing. As a matter of fact as I was waiting in line to get my t shirt I heard McDonald perform his biggest hit with The Doobie Brothers, "What A Fool Believes" and it was awesome! I was sitting in my wheelchair grooving along to the song and lip synching the words as he sang them.

To close McDonald's show he did another Doobie Brothers song called "Takin' It To The Streets" and for this he had a full church choir out with him to provide the back up vocals and they sounded awesome too. The McDonald band was solid and the execution also had me thinking I was listening to the original recordings.

All and all it was a magical night of excellent music.

The Contrivable Purpose

I had to post here my sister's most recent blog entry. My sister has a pretty observational sense of humour and I just found this entry so funny that I had to post this. Also, I had to post my response too (you know, plug plug plug .. ):

The Contrivable Purpose

I live in Hipsterville.

You know, it’s halfway between Insecureville and Smugville.

Oh? You haven’t heard of Hipsterville? Please, it would be my pleasure to give you a tour!

Over to our left we have a rather thin 5’10, 25 year old male with a faux mullet wearing white high tops and tapered jeans. Notice how those jeans are oh so effortlessly tucked in behind the tongue of those snazzy high tops. I’d bet he’s in a band. What do you say we try to track him down on myspace when we get home?

Now look over there! Isn’t that maaaaaarvelous. I know it’s not 1950, but just look at how that young lady on the bicycle with the basket –yes her- is dressed just as if she’s going to a 1950s picnic! How charming!

And to our right – uh-huh, just over there on the sidewalk, we have a young lady with flowing blonde hair wearing a Slayer t-shirt. Slayer! Now they knew how to rock. My! I do believe that is a faux jog she is attempting. Take note of the knee socks. Fabulous! I bet she is dating a guy in a band! Wink wink.

They are…
Clearly trying…
Way…
WAY…
Too hard.

My neighbourhood used to have True Grit. Now it has Faux Grit.

As I sit writing, staring out my front window, I have a shotgun view of The Death of a Neighbourhood.

I used to live around the corner from a large mental health facility - complete with a massive rooming house across the street. There were blocks of bars made for alcoholics who had only a few bucks to spend on their habit. Three dollar beers, and an all-day breakfast for $2.50 at the Friendly Sports Café. It was a neighborhood full of little old Portuguese people shuffling around to the local fish markets, and retiring to their homes. Homes painted white, with little wrought iron fences and fountains in the front yards.

With little knowledge of Toronto, I was lured to this neighborhood 5 years ago by a ridiculously cheap apartment and a lovely old Portuguese landlord. My first night walking home, I remember thinking….geez, where the hell did I move to?

One night, biking over a bump, the light flew off my bike. A friendly hooker helped me track it down. And I came to expect the blinds on the last window on the main floor of the rooming house to always be open – the blue light of the flickering TV washing over the sidewalk. I came to rely on “Bob” to be sitting, in his jogging pants, staring out that bedroom window. “Hello Bob,” I’d say mentally as I passed by.

Now I live in Hipsterville.

The mental hospital is still there. But it’s changed to a largely out-patient facility – though ironically, the massive rooming house across the street is abandoned and for sale. The alcoholic-friendly bars are being turned into coffee houses, organic grocery shops, ‘alternative’ movie rental stores and boutiques. Old Portuguese folks are selling off their homes for small fortunes and moving to gawd knows where.

Hipsterville is small, but it’s a rapidly growing ville.

Hipsters crowd my next door café. All day. Every day. Don’t hipsters have to work to buy all that 80s clothing and pay for all those concert tickets? My favourite local drinking hole, The Communist’s Daughter, is a write-off. I know it’s packed every night before 7pm. The Vatikan, a dumpy, gritty goth/industrial hangout, closed its doors for good in July.

So why is this phenom so troublesome to me? Because it’s a scene full of people seething with the desire To Belong. A profound craving to Fit In, a habit who’s fix has a very obvious outward fashion/lingo manifestation. Because it’s contrived. Insincere.

I can’t wait until the obnoxious 80-unit loft development next door to me is complete.

And yes, I know, I’m some sort of Nouveau-Hipster…by very virtue of being repulsed by the Hipsters, I am a new breed of Hipster. A judgmental Dipster.

Jay sez

I often get that feeling too when I am out and about or even at work. I mean, I see what the kiddies are a wearin’ these days to be all fashionable and or whatever the trend du jour dictates.

However though I do feel that at times that some people try too hard to be fashionable and in the end just end up looking like the next guy/gal who walked by. It’s almost as if they are cloned at the “fashion hatchery” or they have the same stylist (Much Music/MTV influenced by those hip hop/emo bands they so love). I will say too it’s good for a laugh esp the hip hop kiddlins’ and their all urban slang … ya feel me dawg? ya feel me sista?

Right … word … peace home girl .. whatever.

Now having said that I am all for individuality …. but to a point until you look like the aforementioned clones.

Hmmm .. a gal in a Slayer T shirt? To quote Paris “I So DUI’d” Hilton … “that’s hot”