Sex Pistols: August 16, 1996

Maybe the situation was particularly loaded because the band symbolized anti-establishmentarianism to so many, or maybe it was because of the acrimonious way the members had parted ways, but a lot of people greeted the Sex Pistols' 1996 reunion with anger or derision. It probably didn't help matters that the group baited critics by naming the tour Filthy Lucre and releasing a live album to cash in on it. Regardless of whether I felt skeptical about the artistic merit of the tour or the motivations behind it, I certainly wasn't going to sit it out. At the time, the reunion seemed to come out of nowhere and could well have been as tenuous as it was unexpected. Besides, it had been four years since lead singer John Lydon's Public Image Ltd. had released the disappointing, and at the time seemingly final, album That What Is Not so for a fan the Pistols reunion was the only game in town.

Cobo Arena is part of a sprawling convention center and this caused a weird clash of cultures when gingham-clad attendees of a square dance convention were filtering through the building at the same time as the Sex Pistols fans. It might have been cool if people really were going to a Pistols show wearing square dance outfits, though!

The gig itself was a huge letdown. I certainly didn't expect an anarchic spectacle from middle-aged men on a large-scale tour, but I also wasn't prepared for their stiff professionalism. They played the songs -- of which there aren't really that many, are there? -- skillfully and true to the studio versions. But those songs had a humor and energy that was totally lacking during the show, and the presence of an audience seemed to have little effect. When Lydon reconstituted PiL for a tour in 2010, it was quite a different story. At the later PiL gig, he had the spark, even if it wasn't lit at Cobo Arena that night in 1996.

Rufus Wainwright: March 28, 1999

This show took place less than a year after the release of Wainwright's self-titled debut. He was still very much in the early stages of his career, although there was a lot of positive buzz about him. The venue was packed, but intimate. What I remember most about the evening is having the feeling that I was witnessing the beginnings of a very special artist's career.

Wainwright's voice was a revelation, sounding pure, clear, and completely free of the somewhat lazy phrasing on his first album. In addition to tracks from the debut, I recall him playing at least one that would end up on his 2001 sophomore album, Poses. Introducing "Greek Song," Wainwright mused that he thought it should be a duet. "Maybe I could get George Michaels to record it."

Gene: October 18, 1995

Gene were sort of lumped in with Britpop probably due primarily to their timing. Their debut album, Olympian, frankly was a bit more mopey than anything I'd call Britpop. It garnered plenty of comparisons to the Smiths, although that's mostly due to Martin Rossiter's Morrissey-like crooning.

I can't say I recall much about this gig, although I do remember Menthol opened. It was an odd choice because the two bands didn't have much in common musically, with Menthol being more of a straight-ahead, hard-rocking indie band. Later they'd change gears somewhat with Danger: Rock Science! which nodded at '80s new wave (a weakness of mine, to be sure). At the time, though, I'd say they were fairly nondescript and in retrospect so was Gene.

Gary Numan: October 26, 2010

I am a pretty unrepentant new wave fan. So when the opportunity to see a synth pioneer performing one of his classic albums in its entirety arises, you can count me in. Although I would probably rank Replicas (with Tubeway Army) as my favorite Gary Numan album, The Pleasure Principle, which Numan took on tour for its 30th anniversary, is pretty fantastic too.

I had a good laugh when the crew tested tambourine levels before the show. If you know the song "Cars," and I know you do, you can appreciate the importance of getting the tambourine right.

Despite the passing of years, Numan still had his trademark intensity (and eyeliner). He sounded great vocally and musically, particularly on the instrumental "Random." In addition to all the Pleasure Principle tracks,  Numan and his band tore through other synth-pop classics like "Are 'Friends' Electric?" and "Down in the Park." They also touched on some of Numan's more recent songs, which are more industrial in nature and unfortunately sound dated already. That's hard to swallow from an artist whose best work sounded like it came from the future.

The Mighty Blue Kings: April 25, 1997

With all the shows I've seen over the years, I guess it's only natural that my feeble brain can't remember every one of them. Here's a case in point: If I hadn't kept this ticket stub, I probably couldn't even tell you I saw the Mighty Blue Kings.

The band was part of a 1990s swing revival, and it's that genre and the venue of this show that bring back a few memories rather than the band itself. Neo swing groups often played Clutch Cargo's and a bit of a scene sprung up around it. On a weekly basis you could see guys in zoot suits and hats and red-lipped gals' skirts swirling around the dance floor. It was a fun, if fairly short-lived, time.

Pulp: May 31, 1996

In the mid '90s, after having led Pulp for about 15 years, Jarvis Cocker was thrust into belated stardom in the UK and role of de facto spokesman for the burgeoning Britpop movement. The fact that he seemed somewhat befuddled and amused by the whole thing only made him that much more endearing.

At the time of this show, the band was touring in support of Different Class, the landmark album containing "Common People," probably its best known and loved song. It was the height of so-called Britpop, but here in the States, bands that were hugely popular in the UK played at clubs that were probably much smaller than what they were accustomed to back home.

Nashville's Superdrag opened, and at the time I unfairly pegged them as Americans wanting to sound British. In fact, they were a pretty great power pop band, and I wish I'd paid them more mind at the time. I admittedly wasn't the biggest Pulp fan either (although I eventually warmed to them, especially the album This Is Hardcore) but found Cocker immensely entertaining and funny. I recall he made a quip (equal parts cringe- and chuckle-inducing) about the Valu Jet crash that had taken place about three weeks before. "Did you hear they found the black box?" Cocker deadpanned. "The pilot's last words were 'Heeeeeellllllpppp!'" So it wasn't the height of witticism for him, but it was sort of endearing that the reluctant figurehead was willing to toss off a tasteless joke, just like any of your mates might.

Radiohead: April 5, 1996

This is one of those shows that was a downer, not because of the band, but because of the venue. I'm surprised to see this was billed as being at Sanctum, which at some point was renamed Clutch Cargo's. I'm guessing this might be the only show I saw at the venue prior to its renaming. Name change or no, Clutch Cargo's was a place I loved to hate. It booked some of the best alternative/college acts, but always seemed to be filled with frat boy lunkheads, especially on nights when there was DJ instead of live music. The Radiohead show was a particularly bad example.

This was the tour for Radiohead's album The Bends, their second release and first to gain considerable critical acclaim. Maybe because it was so early in the band's career, it seemed like most of the audience only knew, and only wanted to know, the mega hit "Creep." If the band didn't acknowledge the seeming single-mindedness of the audience, frontman Thom Yorke was aware of the bar's skeezy vibe, commenting on the scantily clad waitresses. For a band as arty and cerebral as Radiohead, the venue seemed crazily inappropriate. Yet they soldiered on, giving solid if somewhat exasperated performances of most of the songs from The Bends and some from Pablo Honey and the crowd got its desired rendition of "Creep."

When the band skipped Detroit on its next tour, I was disappointed, but by the release of Kid A both my residency in Michigan and my interest in Radiohead had ended.