It’s been a weird bunch of hours.
Yesterday, we met with a potential client. A soon-to-be label and an artist. Perhaps our first, aside from phone calls and emails. It went well.
Bob called twice. I didn’t answer either call. The third time I picked it up. Bob said, “How’s about some Smashing Pumpkins this weekend at Virgin Music Fest?”
I had asked him about this a few months ago. But I sort of forgot about my inquiry.
Now, I wasn’t all that jazzed about seeing a festival show with the lineup as a whole. I did really wanted to see The Police and Bob knew this. However, Dieselboy, Explosions in the Sky and Bad Brains weren’t poor fare, either. So Sunday was to be fun.
Then a few minutes later we get a call from Bob again. “How about you come over here and I give you my passes so you two can see The Police tonight? I’m done here.”
Somehow we scrambled together to get Lily out of the house and to GrandDad and Nan’s. Not sure how, but we did. She was pretty fussy, but they made it for a few hours.
Anyways, The Police, last night, were pretty wild. It started off awesome. Message in a Bottle. Then it sorta lost it’s “umph.” There was little chemistry. And Sting’s bass work was all over the place, but I think that is a typical thing with him. It surprised me with Stuart Copeland’s drumming. He’s incredible, but his timing was a little off last night. Not something I’d ever expect from someone of his caliber. Regardless of the little things, the show was awesome. It was the Police, goddamit! And they rocked our asses off.
Tonight is the Billy Corgan Experience. I mean the Smashing Pumpkins. And I am already fucking exhausted, but ready for it.
But what was really fucking exciting for me was being so fucking excited to see a show. It was the first time in a long ass while. I love that energy. I love that feeling. And I still have it in me. It’s good I am not dead inside.