Who: Guster
I had a bit of a fetish with Guster's Airport Song and Great Escape back in the day, and CD101 (my favourite radio station, for you newcomers) has been playing Barrel of a Gun every ten minutes or so lately, much to my delight. When I heard that the band was coming to the Newport in Columbus for a little show, I made it my mission to go see them. I had recently been downloading illegal Jump, Little Children MP3s so I could kind of explore their sound risk-free, and I was pretty much in love with them by the time I heard that they had been touring with Guster. Even though the Newport thing was a CD101 Launchpad Live show and tickets were only $5.01, I was hoping that Jump, Little Children would be coming along. I decided that I wanted the CD no matter what, so about two weeks before the show, I went up to the nearest Best Buy on a music hunt. I tracked down Jump, Little Children's Magazine without any trouble and moved on to the "G" section. I found a whole load of Guster CDs just waiting to be taken home, so I picked one up to look at the songs. I saw that it had Airport Song and Great Escape on it, but as I kept scanning, I realized that Barrel of a Gun wasn't anywhere to be seen. I was a bit put off, but I just assumed that Best Buy didn't have the CD I was looking for. I noticed that the CD I was holding was called Goldfly and that there were other CDs in the Guster pile bearing the title of the new CD, Lost and Gone Forever, but for some reason, nothing clicked. I decided that I would love the CD with or without Barrel of a Gun, so I bought both of my selections and went home to appease my hunger for new music.
I realized when I got home that the reason I couldn't find Barrel of a Gun on the CD was the fact that I had bought the wrong disc, but I was really okay with that. After a few tracks, I decided that I was officially in love with everything Jump, Little Children. Guster, however, I just couldn't seem to get into. It was too acoustic. It was too bongo-y. All of the songs sounded the same. The only thing I couldn't find fault with were the vocals. I basically had to force myself to listen to the CD, though, because I just didn't want to sit at the concert without knowing a few songs. I would listen to the half of the CD just for show, then I would pop in my Jump, Little Children as a reward. After a while, though, I recognised that the only reason I liked Jump, Little Children so much more was because I knew the songs. I could sing along with them, while I was still in the initial discovery stage with Guster. So, I started listening to the CD in the morning while I was getting ready for school. I listened to it while I was on the computer. I listened to it while I was in the car.
And I started liking it.
Really liking it.
The songs started getting stuck in my head to the point that I would just have to burst out in song during random classes. I stopped listening to Jump, Little Children, because I liked getting to know Guster's stuff. I called CD101 to ask about the opening band for the concert, and they weren't sure at the time, but I still had my hopes up. I asked Tracey (my best friend, for all you foreigners) if she wanted to go with me, and even though she had never heard anything by either of the bands, she was willing to go because it was so cheap. It's never a good idea to tell me that you're going to something only because of the price, but I didn't want to go alone, so I allowed her to come with me anyway. I called CD101 the day of the show, and Andyman told me that The Emperor something was opening up, which disappointed me a bit. I was still terribly excited about the show, though. I was assuming that no one in Columbus knew about Guster besides those who listen to CD101, so I was picturing about 20 people at the concert. I wasn't about to drive to the Newport being the pusillanimous fool that I am, so Tracey's mom offered to take us if my dad would pick us up.
We wanted to get there a bit early (why, I don't know, since we weren't expecting a line), but we ended up standing in front of the Newport 45 minutes before the doors were supposed to open. That would have been all fine and dandy, except for the fact that it was freezing outside, Tracey and I hadn't worn coats. (Don't call me an idiot. Who wants to carry around a coat all night? That's right. No one.) So, we decided to find the closest music store and hibernate there until 7 p.m. 42, 000 frozen fingers later, we ended up at a CD Warehouse. Tracey found four copies of the Black Lab CD that I would call one of the top 5 best albums I've ever heard, so I cried over that until 6:45. We made our way back to the Newport. They were allowing people to come into the little foyer because it was so cold, and there were probably about 10 people there before us. I expected that the night's entire crowd was standing right there. Some random Newport worker asked us if we would be drinking that night so he could give us little wristbands, and I sort of laughed at him, but it was a compliment, nonetheless. After a while, the guy let everyone in, so Tracey and I sat down at one of the tables sitting out. You know that your band is completely unpopular when the concert hall sets up tables and chairs. Tracey and I sat there discussing Atheism, our friend Samantha, and gray sweatshirts for a while. Then, we watched this guy in a Grateful Dead shirt throw a couple of bags on the floor and walk away. We looked at each other and decided to look inside of the bags, but then the guy came back. He started pulling random equipment from his bags, and then he set up a microphone to record the concert. We continued watching him, intrigued, until something else caught our eyes . . . or someone, rather.
We referred to her as "The Lesbian". She just had lesbian radiating from her. She was standing out in the open part of the floor in front of the stage all alone for about 2 seconds, and then people just started flocking to her. Literally. Two people walked up to talk to her, and she just went crazy, hugging them and . . . just touching them like only a lesbian can. Soon, two obviously gay guys walked up to her and she went crazy once again. So did the guys, actually, but well, you come to expect that from the gays. (My sincere apologies to the gay friends of Katie's Page O' Stuff.) The Lesbian danced around in her tight black pants and her loose, white tee shirt like only a lesbian can. And she just kept touching everyone. It was really disturbing. Yet, somehow, we couldn't stop watching her. I imagined her to be in her early forties just by the way she was dressed and how huge her butt was (my sincere apologies to the old, big-butted friends of Katie's Page O' Stuff), but when she whipped out some lip gloss, I realised that she was probably actually in her early twenties.
After a bit, the opening band came on. I never used to expect much from opening bands, but Tracey and I saw a band called Superstar Rookie open for silverchair earlier this year, and we just loved them, so now we always hope that they'll open all of our local concerts. Guster's opener was pretty wretched, though. The lead singer reminded me of James Hetfield (of Metallica), and he was obviously reveling in his rock stardom. Apparently, he didn't realize that he was singing in a totally unknown band that was opening for another totally unknown band in Columbus, Ohio. He was wearing a sparkly, black shirt, for God's sake. After the band's first song, my ear's were screaming out in agony and I could feel a headache coming on. The singer smiled, though, and said, "Bet you didn't expect us to be so loud, did you?" in a really self-serving voice. Evidently, some bad rack star wannabes are still under the impression that LOUD = GOOD. For the record, it doesn't. I shouldn't be so hard on the band, though. No, I really should. They were terrible. The bassist looked like Chris Kattan from Saturday Night Live, and he kept spanking his bass. It was really quite amusing, but also disconcerting at the same time. The band did a song with a chorus that went something like, "I love my job. Yes, I really do. I love my job, and I love you." Horrible. Really horrible. It was the second-best song they did (which isn't saying much, obviously), but the singer ruined it for me at the end when he pointed out at the audience as he sang, " . . . and I love you." Tracey and I just cracked up. The Lesbian made her way to the front of the stage with her flock of sheep during the band's set, and we could see her shaking her lesbian head trying to toss the non-existent lesbian hair that she had. Between songs, the singer said something like, "I have a cold right now. My doctor told me to drink a beer a day to keep it away." Chicks in the audience cheered as he took a swig after that, but Tracey and I just rolled our eyes at his lack of . . . well, everything. I won't be totally negative, though. They did do a fine cover of Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus". No, I shouldn't say that the cover was fine. The song is fine, and they did cover it, but that's about it. I think the band's lucky that I can't remember their name. The Emperor something . . . Much to my relief, the band only played for about a half an hour, as is custom with opening bands. My ears were ringing, but I was too excited by the fact that Guster was soon to come to be bothered with that.
I know I'm supposed to be talking about the concert here, but Tracey and I just had too much fun watching people for me to not tell about them. During the bad band's set, I had watched this guy walk in. I mean, he was just plain hot. He was wearing a leather jacket, which I'm a sucker for anyway, but he had the hair. You know what I'm talking about. No, maybe you don't. I'm quite possibly the only chick alive who finds it attractive. It's that dark, flat hair that doesn't really look good but just works. The best example I can think of is the dark, brooding guy from the Gap leather ads. Tracey and I lovingly referred to him as "Sex Guy", because he just had sex dripping off of him. (And if you've never seen dripping sex, you don't know what you're missing.) Pretty soon, The Lesbian made her way over to the group he was standing in and started to touch him. Then, I caught sight of something incredible and looked at Tracey. She had seen it, too. It was a big-haired midget. The guy looked extremely smelly and whatnot, but The Lesbian was all over him. I suppose lesbians have no quips about big-haired people or midgets, though. What standards can they possibly have? They like girls, for God's sake. (My sincere apologies to the lesbian friends of Katie's Page O' Stuff.) The Lesbian walked back over to her group, and just as Tracey and I were discussing the fact that we thought the entire group probably had big orgies together, they all just started hugging. Our stomachs were churning, I believe. We started talking about how we imagined that the whole clan met at every concert to recruit new people for their big Orgy Group. One of the gays had missed the Orgy Group's hug, and when he came back, he was obviously distraught in knowing that The Lesbian had hugged everyone but him. But Distraught Gay Man had nothing to worry about. The Lesbian promptly threw back her head, arched her back, and gave Distraught Gay Man a hug as she fondled someone else's butt. The big-haired midget ran by and passed out pink flyers of some sort to the Orgy Group as Sex Guy chatted with The Lesbian's group and a Mexican stood off by himself, clearly hurt that he wasn't being included in the orgy. I swore that No Longer Distraught Gay Man was going to burn Tracey and me with his cigarette every time he walked by us. I could just picture him saying, "Hey, stop making fun of my lesbian," in his gay voice as he stuck the end of his cigarette right in our hair, watching it singe and laughing maniacally. (Disclaimer: Katie's Page O' Stuff would like to take the time to remind readers that gays are actually quite affable and would never think of burning someone's hair with a cigarette. Not even ones with fake yellow hair. OK, I'm lying. They would.)
So, finally, the lights went out and we knew it was time for Guster. A trippy, little drum beat came on as they were running out onto the stage, and I was thinking, "Hmm . . . this isn't the Guster music I know." I got a little worried. I shouldn't have. As soon as the guys got out there, the music stopped, and they picked up their acoustic guitars. Ryan, the lead singer-y guy, held his hand over his eyes so he could see the crowd, and he said, "Hey, are you guys in the right place? We don't have any fans in Columbus." We all cheered and whatnot, just because it's the audience's job to pretend to want to cheer for the band. I looked around and realized how full the place was. It wasn't anywhere near as packed as it was for silverchair, but there were about 150 people there. Guster started playing. I recognised the song right off the bat - Great Escape. I sang along a little. I didn't really want to sing along, though, because I realized how amazing Ryan's voice is. I would be very tempted to call him the best male singer I've ever heard. In fact, I think I will say that. Ryan Miller is the best male singer I've ever heard. My absolute favourite part of that song is the end when he whispers "Circle circle dot dot dot". I wasn't disappointed at the concert. The girls behind me giggled and sang along when he did that part, so I knew I wasn't the only one who finds it amusing. After that, Ryan introduced Brian as "The Thundergod from Argentina" as Brian went crazy on his bongos for "Rocketship". Brian so is the Thundergod. The whole band is just incredible. You think that Adam's just there to look good, but dang it if that boy can't sing, too. Impresses the heck out of me. The cover of "Lady in Red" accompanied by a story about Ryan's Prom. The jokes about having big hair. Ryan holding a contest between the floor and the balcony to see which was louder when the balcony hadn't even been opened up. The closing song. Oh, the closing song. Sweet, sweet closing song. Ryan asked us if we could be totally quiet, and when we proved that we could, he and Adam unplugged their guitars from their amps, stepped to the front of the stage away from their microphones, and sang to us. Totally a capella. Indescribable. Not knowing Guster's first album, it was only later that I learned the song's name. Mona Lisa. It was just perfect. They were just perfect. I couldn't forget the way that I felt for those 4 minutes and ten seconds if I tried to. I'll probably never feel that way again.
After the concert, Tracey and I trekked out back to meet the band, of course. Adam surrounded himself with people, so we went and nudged our way into his circle. He commented on the fact that I was without enough clothing on such a cold night, so Tracey, always the kind helper, pointed out that I love Guster so much that I'm willing to get gangrene in my toes just to talk to them for five minutes. So true, so true. As we stood and talked to Adam, somehow the topic of structures came up, and Adam said, "The St. Louis Arch is my favourite structure EVER." That just amused me to no end. Who actually takes the time to consider his favourite structure? Adam rocks my little world. Someone asked his birthday, and when he said, "May 31st", I squealed and said, "That's when my sister's birthday is!" Odd how you think that Adam Gardner will actually care about something as trivial as your sister's birthday. He pretended to, though, which makes me love him that much more. He signed my copy of Goldfly and drew a little stick figure of me, curly hair and all. Ryan then made himself available, so Tracey and I moved on to him. I absolutely forget what I said to him, but I remember him smoking a cigarette, which really disappointed me. But hey, if he can sing like my personal Jesus should with lungs full of tar, then more power to him. He simply signed his name to my Goldfly, put his arm around me for a picture, and smiled at his in all of his large-haired glory. And then it was done. And I haven't been the same since.
Where: The Newport Music Hall • Columbus, Ohio
When: December 7th, 1999