highlifer

We Are the 80s

July 13, 2006. Madonna at Wachovia Center, Philadelphia.

A few years back I saw Madonna and found the whole thing to be a bit hollow. But this tour was getting great reviews, and I'd enjoyed the brief sneak-peek at Coachella.

First off, this is no concert. This is a show. Like a Broadway revue. There's no room anywhere for spontaneity, everything is choreographed within an inch of it's life.

The first part of the show had an equestrian theme. Madonna rode a mechanical horse. She rode her dancers. All the while, gruesome videos were playing showing horses falling down. The music was good, but the videos were vengeful- I pictured Madonna planning on showing that horse that threw her earlier who the fucking boss was. It was like horse snuff films.

The second part was the social conscience part - a little ham-handed, and the cross part to "Live to Tell" was not so controversial.

Finally, the disco part. Lucky Star! Hung Up! Really, it ended high. (Even though since the show, I've decided I prefer Get Together to Hung Up.)

Madonna felt, I believe, as warm as she possibly could to the audience. There was a little interaction.

My biggest disappointment - the crowd was full of really really really really aging lesbians. I didn't really see that coming. Can Madonna no longer throw a circuit party? I'm thinking not.

Read Rebecca Traister's awesome article about one of the NY shows.

David Lee Roth, Ram's Head Live, July 16

Now, David Lee knows how to throw a circuit party! I'm convinced of this! Just not at Ram's Head Live.

My youth was filled with love of DLR. Dig if you will the picture of a teenage girl named Jamie, a name that was never found in displays of pencils or jewelry or "This is So-and-So's Room" signs in the late '70s. Imagine that the first place, other than the bionic woman, who used that name in pop culture is Van Halen, and imagine that you mooned over that song, and DLR for many years to come. Imagine that you loved men with chest hair, and DLR showed his off by wearing sparkly vests and no shirts and posing provocatively. Well, welcome to my teen years.

Still, I was incredibly apprehensive to go to this show. It was at a smallish (less than 2,000 seats) club. DLR's act had worn beyond thin in the last few years. His painfully unfunny stints on Howard Stern. His even more painfully unfunny attempt to follow in Stern's footsteps in the radio world. Could he still kick? Would he try?

Well, he kicked and succeeded. He could still sing. He looks pretty damn good in tight pants and sparkly vests for a man of his age.

But the hairy chest! It is gone!

Throughout the last few years, I've been convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that DLR is gay. He's never been linked to anyone for any length of time. Random groupies. If you get right down to it, he's pretty flaming. But the manscaping! Oh, God the manscaping! That beautiful chest hair, waxed away. That was the last piece of evidence I could possibly need. DLR is gay.

The show itself was nothing but hits. He had a hacky backing band who had spent lots of time locked in their bedrooms learning Eddie Van Halen riffs. The crowd of aging dirty-butts loved him. No one seemed to notice or care how gay he is. He makes that cheesy grin constantly. He mugs WAAAAAAAAAAY too much. Joey D. thinks that he mugs so much and so cheesily because he is used to playing larger venues, and he can't dial his expressions down to a smaller room. I think he's out of his mind and unbelievably cheesy.

But Jamie's Crying? It still totally rocked.

posted by jamie @ 9:31 PM