For all the highs and lows of blink-182's concert last night, I couldn't help but think this tour might be the moment they enter the status of "legacy act," the polite term for bands whose concerts are well-attended for the hits while their albums sputter briefly in the lower half of the top 40. It might not be, but who knows how deeply-attached the fans at last night's show would be to new material?
But mine was probably the only mind at the show wondering that, and the thought only fluttered around for a second. The show was a giddy triumph of sweetness and nostalgia. I wrote in my Dude Ranch review that "gusto counts for a lot," and that was true here. Mark Hoppus' vocals were inexpressive, always managing to be both kind of flat and sounding like he wasn't changing pitch at all throughout the night. Tom DeLonge missed the intro on a song or two. But that didn't matter - for nearly every song, the rapturous audience was willing to fill in, singing (or screaming) each lyric with every breath they had. Outdoor stadiums obviously don't really have acoustics, and the sound from my section felt muddy and occasionally undistinguished throughout the night. Yet, that, too, didn't matter because of the energy the band and audience brought to the show*.
The setlist thankfully relied heavily on their past two albums: Take Your Pants Off and Jacket and blink-182. These albums are their tightest and most ambitious (respectably). Of course, the hits were the point, but let's face it: blink-182 do not have enough hits (or: they have plenty of hits and their songs are too short) to fill up an hour-plus-long set. So the songs from that last album were wisely chosen, showing some instrumental prowess that you wouldn't guess from listening to "Dammit" or "All the Small Things" on repeat. They're not virtuosos, but they can get it done when they're not goofing off.
But then, isn't goofing off the point? Few songs went by without Tom Delonge telling a dick joke and/or belching into the mic. It helped to keep the mood light**, and that's a great thing for a band whose M.O. is lightweight pop-punk. It's telling, too, that by sticking to the hits and self-titled album, they also don't do songs that involve much potty humor (No "Voyeur" or "Happy Holidays, You Bastard!"), which brings them one step closer to being an almost family-friendly act as they get older. If the Rolling Stones can get families to bring their brood with them to hear "Satisfaction" and see a cartoon topless woman riding the tongue of their logo, what stops blink-182 from being a family excursion by the time they approach their 40's?
Also important to bands whose sets are a litany of greatest hits: the encore. "This may or may not be our last song, depending on how loud you cheer for us after we play it," promised Hoppus. I never want to hear that statement again. Hands-down, the space between "Anthem Part 2" (the last song on the main set) and Travis Barker's drum solo was the loudest moment of the night. Louder than the actual music coming from the Comcast Center's aged speakers, and it did not seem to let up for an eternity. Once it did, Barker shows off his skills. He's the only band member I'd say is notably above average at his instrument, and it was impressive. But wait! There's more! While he drummed, the platform moved forward, rose up about 15 feet and rotated a few times while moving from side to side along the stage. The show wrapped with "Carousel" and "Dammit," the latter of which featured the requisite confetti plus six or so wacky arm waving inflatable tube men. It didn't need it. I haven't heard an audience so united in a sing-along since I heard Prince play "Purple Rain."
Immediately before blink-182 came Fall Out Boy. The questionable amphitheater sound quality did them little good, but I vaguely have some respect for Pete Wentz after hearing him pander shamelessly to the Boston crowd. I'm pretty sure, "This song is about sucking, it's also about fucking, but it's mostly about how the Yankees fucking suck!" is not completely true about "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet," but I'm not the one who wrote the song. Their set was a short crowd-pleaser, with most of the songs coming off of their big breakthrough, From Under the Cork Tree. It shows that they know their place on the tour: it's not about them, it's about blink-182. Wentz's introduction to "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More 'Touch Me'" was how I learned that John Hughes had passed away (RIP), though I couldn't hear what he said very well through the speaker system. Also, the camera projecting the band onto the big screens for people far away (like me) missed it every time I saw an ant-like Wentz spinning wildly and swinging his bass, and every time guitarist Joe Trohman ran along the stage maniacally. Such is the reality of these venues.
Panic! at the Disco's Brendan Urie showed a surprising amount of charisma, and the band was pretty good for one that split in half two or three weeks ago. They, like Fall Out Boy, played mostly stuff from their breakthrough, which I've never been able to get into. The one new song they played, "New Perspective," shows that they have some promise and may not be handicapped by little things like half your band leaving. When Hoppus later asked if the crowd liked Panic!, they were they only band that got audibly booed. To be fair, when Panic! played, the venue was only half-full. That's better than Chester French, who probably played to a 1/5 full venue, in unkind for concerts daylight. I enjoyed them, since they seemed self-aware of their cheesiness. The opening slot seems about right for them now - lots of potential, but they're not for everybody.
Notable people in the audience: I spotted a total of three people in banana suits. Two of them together, one of them separate. The solo banana wore a shirt that said "I go bananas for blink!" The banana duo had a sign that said "TRAVIS is PREGNANT." They got a shout-out during Blink's set. The banana suit is a reference to the "All the Small Things" video, right? I can't remember. Sounds vaguely familiar. Some non-banana people had a banner that said "BUTTSEX" out in the parking lot. More confounding: someone was dressed as the red Teletubby. Awroo?
*Also brought by the audience: pot. This goes without saying at an outdoor/amphitheater concert, but here's a fun story: during "Adam's Song," somewhere around the last run through the chorus, the girl in front of me turned to give me her joint. Ashy, lit part aside, the thing was burnt down to fingernail-width at this point, so I didn't know what was going on. I tried to take it in pinched fingers, to which she indicated no, so I thought it might've been something else. What else would have a glowing tip and be held in her hand between pinched index and thumb? I have no clue. I was still singing along and not thinking. I opened my hand like I was a kid receiving candy, and I'm pretty sure that's the point where any semblance of street cred might have had escaped me. She put my fingers in pinched-finger position again, and realized it was what I thought it was in the first place. Again, it was so small, I don't think she was offering to share with me; I'm pretty sure it was a "hey, can you take care of this?" kind of gesture. I don't know why she couldn't drop it and put it out herself, but I did the honors and for the next song and a half feared that my sandal-clad feet might be set ablaze. After she gave me the roach, by the way, she and her friends (who must have also been averse to putting it out) left. Why not just smoke in front of a really loud stereo in your backyard?
**It's such a far cry from his stage presence with Angels and Airwaves1 that you wonder if he hates doing these songs. Mocking the chorus of "First Date" ("and ever, and ever... this chorus... goes on forever") was funny, but something in the tone of his voice says to me that he's barely hiding his disdain for it.
1Delonge appeared to be wearing an Angels and Airwaves shirt. Can we make a new rule? Bands shouldn't wear their own gear, especially for a side project, and double especially for a side project that sucks. God, the guy can't even wear a shirt without me thinking he's a tool.
But mine was probably the only mind at the show wondering that, and the thought only fluttered around for a second. The show was a giddy triumph of sweetness and nostalgia. I wrote in my Dude Ranch review that "gusto counts for a lot," and that was true here. Mark Hoppus' vocals were inexpressive, always managing to be both kind of flat and sounding like he wasn't changing pitch at all throughout the night. Tom DeLonge missed the intro on a song or two. But that didn't matter - for nearly every song, the rapturous audience was willing to fill in, singing (or screaming) each lyric with every breath they had. Outdoor stadiums obviously don't really have acoustics, and the sound from my section felt muddy and occasionally undistinguished throughout the night. Yet, that, too, didn't matter because of the energy the band and audience brought to the show*.
The setlist thankfully relied heavily on their past two albums: Take Your Pants Off and Jacket and blink-182. These albums are their tightest and most ambitious (respectably). Of course, the hits were the point, but let's face it: blink-182 do not have enough hits (or: they have plenty of hits and their songs are too short) to fill up an hour-plus-long set. So the songs from that last album were wisely chosen, showing some instrumental prowess that you wouldn't guess from listening to "Dammit" or "All the Small Things" on repeat. They're not virtuosos, but they can get it done when they're not goofing off.
But then, isn't goofing off the point? Few songs went by without Tom Delonge telling a dick joke and/or belching into the mic. It helped to keep the mood light**, and that's a great thing for a band whose M.O. is lightweight pop-punk. It's telling, too, that by sticking to the hits and self-titled album, they also don't do songs that involve much potty humor (No "Voyeur" or "Happy Holidays, You Bastard!"), which brings them one step closer to being an almost family-friendly act as they get older. If the Rolling Stones can get families to bring their brood with them to hear "Satisfaction" and see a cartoon topless woman riding the tongue of their logo, what stops blink-182 from being a family excursion by the time they approach their 40's?
Also important to bands whose sets are a litany of greatest hits: the encore. "This may or may not be our last song, depending on how loud you cheer for us after we play it," promised Hoppus. I never want to hear that statement again. Hands-down, the space between "Anthem Part 2" (the last song on the main set) and Travis Barker's drum solo was the loudest moment of the night. Louder than the actual music coming from the Comcast Center's aged speakers, and it did not seem to let up for an eternity. Once it did, Barker shows off his skills. He's the only band member I'd say is notably above average at his instrument, and it was impressive. But wait! There's more! While he drummed, the platform moved forward, rose up about 15 feet and rotated a few times while moving from side to side along the stage. The show wrapped with "Carousel" and "Dammit," the latter of which featured the requisite confetti plus six or so wacky arm waving inflatable tube men. It didn't need it. I haven't heard an audience so united in a sing-along since I heard Prince play "Purple Rain."
Immediately before blink-182 came Fall Out Boy. The questionable amphitheater sound quality did them little good, but I vaguely have some respect for Pete Wentz after hearing him pander shamelessly to the Boston crowd. I'm pretty sure, "This song is about sucking, it's also about fucking, but it's mostly about how the Yankees fucking suck!" is not completely true about "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet," but I'm not the one who wrote the song. Their set was a short crowd-pleaser, with most of the songs coming off of their big breakthrough, From Under the Cork Tree. It shows that they know their place on the tour: it's not about them, it's about blink-182. Wentz's introduction to "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More 'Touch Me'" was how I learned that John Hughes had passed away (RIP), though I couldn't hear what he said very well through the speaker system. Also, the camera projecting the band onto the big screens for people far away (like me) missed it every time I saw an ant-like Wentz spinning wildly and swinging his bass, and every time guitarist Joe Trohman ran along the stage maniacally. Such is the reality of these venues.
Panic! at the Disco's Brendan Urie showed a surprising amount of charisma, and the band was pretty good for one that split in half two or three weeks ago. They, like Fall Out Boy, played mostly stuff from their breakthrough, which I've never been able to get into. The one new song they played, "New Perspective," shows that they have some promise and may not be handicapped by little things like half your band leaving. When Hoppus later asked if the crowd liked Panic!, they were they only band that got audibly booed. To be fair, when Panic! played, the venue was only half-full. That's better than Chester French, who probably played to a 1/5 full venue, in unkind for concerts daylight. I enjoyed them, since they seemed self-aware of their cheesiness. The opening slot seems about right for them now - lots of potential, but they're not for everybody.
Notable people in the audience: I spotted a total of three people in banana suits. Two of them together, one of them separate. The solo banana wore a shirt that said "I go bananas for blink!" The banana duo had a sign that said "TRAVIS is PREGNANT." They got a shout-out during Blink's set. The banana suit is a reference to the "All the Small Things" video, right? I can't remember. Sounds vaguely familiar. Some non-banana people had a banner that said "BUTTSEX" out in the parking lot. More confounding: someone was dressed as the red Teletubby. Awroo?
*Also brought by the audience: pot. This goes without saying at an outdoor/amphitheater concert, but here's a fun story: during "Adam's Song," somewhere around the last run through the chorus, the girl in front of me turned to give me her joint. Ashy, lit part aside, the thing was burnt down to fingernail-width at this point, so I didn't know what was going on. I tried to take it in pinched fingers, to which she indicated no, so I thought it might've been something else. What else would have a glowing tip and be held in her hand between pinched index and thumb? I have no clue. I was still singing along and not thinking. I opened my hand like I was a kid receiving candy, and I'm pretty sure that's the point where any semblance of street cred might have had escaped me. She put my fingers in pinched-finger position again, and realized it was what I thought it was in the first place. Again, it was so small, I don't think she was offering to share with me; I'm pretty sure it was a "hey, can you take care of this?" kind of gesture. I don't know why she couldn't drop it and put it out herself, but I did the honors and for the next song and a half feared that my sandal-clad feet might be set ablaze. After she gave me the roach, by the way, she and her friends (who must have also been averse to putting it out) left. Why not just smoke in front of a really loud stereo in your backyard?
**It's such a far cry from his stage presence with Angels and Airwaves1 that you wonder if he hates doing these songs. Mocking the chorus of "First Date" ("and ever, and ever... this chorus... goes on forever") was funny, but something in the tone of his voice says to me that he's barely hiding his disdain for it.
1Delonge appeared to be wearing an Angels and Airwaves shirt. Can we make a new rule? Bands shouldn't wear their own gear, especially for a side project, and double especially for a side project that sucks. God, the guy can't even wear a shirt without me thinking he's a tool.
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