Ringo Starr: July 30, 1989

I recall shamefully little about this show, which was the only time I've ever seen a member of the Beatles. Believe me, I tried to see McCartney, standing countless hours in the freezing cold outside a department store Ticketmaster in January only to hear the unobstructed seats sold out, then the side-of-stage seats sold out, then even the behind-the-stage seats sold out. Alas, it will probably never happen.

This was the first of many of Ringo's tours with his self-proclaimed "All-Starr Band," comprised of various rock luminaries from days gone by. I recall Joe Walsh played at this show, Billy Preston, Dr. John, and some others. It was a solid band, actually, and Ringo led them in good-natured versions of singalong classics such as "Photograph" and "Yellow Submarine" - a mix of songs from his Beatles and solo careers.

One odd off-the-cuff thing I recall: The tickets for this show seemed quite expensive at the time. Looking back, it's funny to see that the face value was $25. With the service fees, they soared to over $30, which by today's standards is one of the cheaper shows you'll see, but in 1989 was still pretty pricey. I guess All-Starrs don't work for nothing.

Depeche Mode w/ Nitzer Ebb: June 29, 1990

This was the second time I saw Depeche Mode, at the same outdoor venue as the previous show in support of Music for the Masses. DM's momentum had been growing steadily for years, but after the 101 documentary and the huge Rose Bowl concert it showcased, things seemed to really be taking off. This time the band was supporting Violator -- that great big album with that great big "Personal Jesus" single. Nitzer Ebb, who had recently released their third album, Showtime, opened to an appreciative crowd.

I don't remember many details of this show. Dave Gahan demonstrated his usual whirling dervish dance moves. I think we might have been denied "People Are People" once again. I recall "Enjoy the Silence" being pretty great. Oddly, what I remember most is some tipsy boys flirting with us in the parking lot and throwing popcorn through our open car window.

Depeche Mode and OMD: May 21, 1988

Since this was an outdoor show, I'm surprised to see it happened in May. The weather was good, as I recall. I went with my high-school friend Laurie and a few of her girlfriends. On the ride there, one of them mentioned that her brother or someone had asked if OMD was a rap group. "Yeah, Run-OMD," I laughed, unwittingly creating one of my own all-time favorite jokes. (Yes, I frequently amuse myself.)

This show was part of the tour for Music for the Masses, some of which was captured in D.A. Pennebaker's film Depeche Mode 101. The tour marked a special moment in the history of Depeche Mode and alternative music in general. Little did we realize but both were about to blow up big-time and "alternative music" would soon evolve into a totally different monster. (I don't think there really is any "alternative" music anymore, but that's a whole other story, not fit for this blog!)

OMD were alright, but nothing great. I prefer their older material, but they still had some great songs at this point, but were pretty lacking in the stage presence department. Although to some extent the same could be said of Depeche Mode, Dave Gahan really worked it, and the whole vibe of the show was pretty exciting, since it was a big outdoor thing that made you realize, "Holy cow, there are a lot of us... alternative people."

DM did a lot of great songs that night, but not "People Are People." I guess they were feeling contrary. My one big memory of the night was a girl who was so drunk she was face-down on the ground for most of the show. Her friends just left her there for people to throw grass on, and I kept one eye on her most of the time because I remember how Jimi Hendrix died. I was thankful I was a) not hanging out with a bunch of jerks like that (what would likely now be called "frenemies") and b) not drunk.

Funny postscript: One night much later I was at (where else?) Denny's dressed in an all-black outfit that was typical for me at the time. The waitress asked me if I liked Depeche Mode and when I answered affirmatively she said, "You look you would like Depeche Mode." She didn't say it maliciously or anything, but it got me thinking about how I presented myself. I decided I didn't want anyone to assume they knew a lot about me based on the way I looked. I think not too long after that I bought a pink polka dot shirt just to be an asshole.

New Order, PiL, Sugarcubes: July 1, 1989

Rachel, Bonnie, and Rachel outside the show, '80s alt fashions on proud display.

The first thing I recall about this show is that it was rescheduled, so the date on the ticket is probably incorrect. We were actually almost to the parking lot of the venue by the time they announced the show was canceled; someone in the band (I think Peter Hook) had fallen ill. In retrospect, I think the show would have been just fine without him. I read one of the meanest, funniest, and truest reviews of this tour a few weeks after our show. It began, "No wonder Ian Curtis hanged himself."

I was a fan of all three bands on the bill so I figured it would be great. The Sugarcubes were still riding high on their amazing debut album but had just recorded the follow-up, so we got a taste of it, too. Bjork has always had a fantastic voice and she is just as dazzling live as on record. She was wearing platform sneakers and a clingy silver dress, this being the start of her "deranged club-hopper baby doll" fashion period. The Sugarcubes were good but Public Image were even better - tighter, more confident, with better songs. They  were supporting their album 9 at the time.

So it was a good day, the excitement had been building, dusk had come, and New Order took the stage. They stood there and did a song that sounded just like the record. They stood there and did another song that sounded just like the record. And so on. Lather, rinse, repeat. The highlight of the show was when John Lydon, clearly bored and annoyed out of his mind, came back onstage and shook his butt mockingly in the band's direction. It was hilarious and the crowd ate it up, but Bernard Sumner was absolutely shooting daggers from his eyes. It was brilliant. And then New Order stood there and did another song that sounded just like the record. We left before the encore and could hear the strains of "Blue Monday" as we were driving away. I was sort of sad to miss it, but then I realized I could put on the record, stare at a picture of the band, and get the same effect.