On March 8th, Guster played with the Colorado Symphony. I really considered buying a ticket to Denver just to see this show. But then I thought about how I’m a responsible parent with a pregnant wife that can’t just jet off to concerts whenever he feels like it and that the last time I flew into Denver a hippie fiddled with a short-wave radio midway through the flight and yada yada yada everyone in my section ended up getting questioned by both Homeland Security and the FBI. True story.
This rumble has nothing to do with records or vinyl or a new and recommended purchase. It might actually seem to be against recorded music. That, however, couldn’t be further from my point. Without recorded music, live music wouldn’t have impromptu sing-a-longs, organic ping pong ball tosses or a following greater than that of your popular local band. (Here in Pittsburgh I’m thinking of the Clarks’ level of fame). Sometimes, however, it seems we’re too busy managing our iTunes libraries to bother with live music anymore. I think about going to five or six shows for every one that I attend. Life gets in the way; we’re in too many places at once. It’s just easier to pick up the City Paper, note all the cool shows and never see any of them. That’s not to say that every show is worth the effort. Really, honestly, when was the last time you saw a memorable amphitheater show? I’d have to point to a Red Hot Chili Peppers show in Atlanta after the release of Californication. Memorable, that is, in the ways in which that show killed my appreciation for the record. Lifeless. Workman-like. I was glad when it was over. And they tragically played very little from Blood Sugar Sex Magic.