The path not taken

Last night I missed an opportunity of a life time; my first and perhaps last chance to rush the stage at a heavy metal concert. A friend of mine managed to wrangle a couple of free tickets to the Deep Purple concert that happened in my town last night.

We went to the venue box office as directed but his name wasn’t on the door list. My friend dropped a few names and the lady, looking sceptical, went of to check. At this point, and for the five minutes that followed, my friend was looking slightly agitated and dejected mumbling curses. I was experiencing only mild disappointed. Three hours previously I had planned to spend the evening at home with my new computer (I picked that up yesterday as well) then my mate called. Going back home to nerd out was a good fallback plan, I was happy whichever way. Well the lady came back all smiles and politeness and handed us the tickets – seats C13 & 14!. Three rows back and centre stage.

I am not a devoted fan of the Purps, they were a bit before my time (or Status Quo, who were the support) but I like a lot of their stuff and I do love a live show so I was fairly pumped. We got seated just after the opener finished, a local band, apparently they were good, the punters around us were full of praise. So we took our seats and watch the stage being set for Status Quo.

The lights dimmed, a deep synth bass note filled the hall and out they came. Blam and straight into a set full of their hits. Every one in the front stood and remained standing for the show. These are fairly old musos but they belted out each song and put on a great guitar show. The crowd clapped in the appropriate parts and sung along and in great voice. It just amazes me how crappy the crowd sounds when you are up the back but how great it sounds down near the front.

Anyway as the set progressed the odd fan started moving forward. There was a good 1 ½ meters between the stage barrier and the front row so there was a decent standing area. The show rocked on and the row in front of me was virtually empty – they had all jumped the seat to get to the stage barrier and be with the punters from the front row. At this point I could have easily hopped the two rows of chars and taken my place at the barrier. Instead I just stood my ground and rocked along with the event.

I looked back at one point and saw a middle aged woman holding up a banner - ‘xxx – you still have it’, I can’t remember the name. Up front (in my spot) a couple of younger lads (maybe 30ish) had on metal hair wigs and were banging away and doing air guitar – just great. Every one was on their feet, every one nodding, or shuffling, or making hand gestures or some combination of all of these. The improvised mosh pit of the elder was rocking. Very rock and roll in a, how can I say this nicely, mature way.

The set finished and the crowd dispersed, out for drinks or a smoke or just back to their seats. We just sat and watched for the 15 minute break while the stage was dismantled and re-assembled for Deep Purple. Deep Purple, a legendary band, a band that has had more line ups and albums released than most but here they were to do a gig in my town. This band that placed musical virtuosity beyond all else. And for me the originators of metal (excluding Led Zeppelin offcourse). I was buzzing.

Once more the house lights dimmed, the synth aria commenced as the band moved into place. Every one in the front stood once more, but this time with more respect and awe. We watched as the lead dabbled, strangled and loved his instrument. Power waves of bass washed the audience as we started to loosen up. A few early opportunists moved forward. Once more the set progressed through familiar tunes and once more the opportunity to be in the front row was passed up. I just stood with my mate and watched these old guys belt out some of the most recognisable tunes in the genera.

They worked hard and performed as expected, this band that had helped set the pace for what would become heavy metal. But more than screeching guitar. This is controlled distortion. Melodies and bass riffs in a style that many others have imitated since. Keyboards and organ sounds, rotating speakers; it was there. The vocal performance was strong, but not as strong as maybe 30 years ago but effort and emotion were present by the bucket full. We, the crowd, sung, clapped, shuffled and cheered.

And so the show ended after an encore. The magic stopped, the crowd dispersed and the arena was once more just a sporting venue.

I had trouble sleeping. Ringing ears, repeated riffs and the regret of not moving forward kept me conscious.

Rock and Roll!