Yes: November 21, 1987

I'll just come right out and admit that I own Big Generator, the album Yes was supporting on this tour. That would be the one after "Owner of a Lonely Heart," which is a pretty cool song and video -- and you cannot convince me it is not. Of course, this '80s version of Yes sounded very little like the earlier prog rock version, but it's up to you to decide whether that's good or bad.

I was not a huge Yes fan by any means, but I liked some of their songs well enough that when a high school friend offered a free extra ticket I was game. What I remember most about this show is the stench of pot in the air of a sports arena and stoner guys standing on folding chairs. The band was kind of boring, and some members of the somewhat restless crowd actually booed a little. Not being a fan of pot, sports arenas, stoner guys, folding chairs, or booing, I side completely with Yes on this one, boring or not.

The Go-Go's: November 22, 1990

The Go-Go's have been one of my very favorite groups since I was a kid. I still have the original copies of all their albums from back in the day along with the picture sleeve 45 of "Head Over Heels," which probably holds the distinction of being the most well-worn record in my collection (that goes for both sides!). I was too young to see them during their original three-album run, but thankfully they've reunited several times for tours and even recorded a new album in 2001. 

The first reunion tour was in 1990, so this show at the beautiful, historic Fox Theater in Detroit was the first chance I'd had to see them, although I'd seen Belinda Carlisle solo in 1988. Note that this show was on a Thursday night in late November. You know what happens on Thursdays in late November? That's right; my sister and I went to see the Go-Go's on Thanksgiving. So much for holiday traditions!

If I'm remembering correctly, Too Much Joy was the opener at this show, and I'd see the Juliana Hatfield Three open for the Go-Go's a few years later. I distinctly remember two things from this show: Belinda Carlisle commenting on how gorgeous the theater was (it is beautiful, even if it's a little over-the-top!) and her tossing handfuls of candy into the crowd. Some guy near us made a remark like, "It looks like she's had too much candy!" Har har har. Carlisle, and lots of other female performers, have endured these kinds of smart ass remarks for years but this struck me as particularly awful because a) the guy had paid to be at the show and so was allegedly a fan, and b) she was not even remotely overweight at the time. So, this show is a bittersweet memory in a way, because it was so great to see my longtime heroines rocking out in the flesh, but the same ridiculous sexism and double standards were still apparent a decade after they blazed a trail for female acts.

Another note about this show: This is the only instance where I noted the set list when I wasn't reviewing the show. The set included (not in the order performed):

Our Lips Are Sealed
Tonite
Lust to Love
This Town
We Got the Beat
How Much More
Automatic
Skidmarks on My Heart
Vacation
Get Up and Go
Beatnick Beach
Cool Jerk
Head Over Heels
Turn to You
I'm the Only One
Mercenary

Corey Hart: February 5, 1986

 

My primary memory of this concert is being sick as a dog. I had a fever of 103 (yes, just like the Foreigner song!) but there was no way I would miss Corey Hart. I sucked it up, slightly delirious, not exactly sure why my parents let me go, but going all the same, with my sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law. I believe this was the first show I saw on the University of Michigan campus -- the first of many, as it turned out. Hill Auditorium, famously designed to have perfect  acoustics, remains a wonderful place to see concerts.

Corey Hart, as you might remember, was a Canadian artist best known for the hits "Sunglasses at Night" and "Never Surrender." He continued to record throughout the '90s but today works primarily as a songwriter (for his wife, singer Julie Masse, among others). When I saw him, he was promoting his second album, Boy in the Box, the title track of which, I kid you not, includes the lyric, "Pull up your socks / You're the boy in the box." He performed it, and other tracks from BITB and First Offense, in the overly emotive style any fan of his albums would expect, throwing in the occasional melodramatic gesture for good measure. I'll admit I ate it up. I was 13 and he was foxy -- what can I say? I'm not sure how long I wore my Boy in the Box T-shirt before I started to feel like a dork.

David Bowie: September 12, 1987

Everybody loves Bowie, right? The great thing about being known as a musical chameleon is that everyone is bound to enjoy something you've done sooner or later! Needless to say, my 15-year-old self was excited to see him. I have to admit I'm not fond of Bowie's more recent work, but in 1987 he hadn't made too many missteps yet. On this, the Glass Spider Tour, he was supporting the album Never Let Me Down which, somewhat ironically, was a letdown. I was excited about the tour, however, since it was being billed as a return to theatricality after the more traditional Serious Moonlight shows. Toni Basil was the choreographer and Peter Frampton, former golden-tressed arena rock god of the '70s, would be playing guitar.

This was the pre-Internet age when you actually had to go stand in line for concert tickets and my friend's super cool mom, who as a Bowie fan herself would accompany us to the show, camped out a few hours ahead of time for ours. She completely shocked our teenage sensibilities at the concert by correctly identifying the pot smell near us and jumping up to dance during "Rebel Rebel."

It was great to hear Bowie sing his hits, but for the most part the show was a failure. As the local paper pointed out the next day, the audience reaction was so dismal that it seemed Bowie altered the show, sending the dancers offstage at one point to go it alone for a few numbers. But you know what? Bowie on a bad night (or a bad tour) is still David. Damned. Bowie. And I got a nifty T-shirt with spiders all over the back out of the deal.

BoDeans: May 14, 1988

This is one of the few bands I have to wonder about seeing. I suppose they are inoffensive enough, but not particularly memorable or inspiring.

I don't remember much of anything about this show, but I do recall that afterward my friend Bonnie and waited at the alleyway where everyone who plays the Michigan Theatre has to exit to get to their tour buses. Sammy Llanas, who is probably best remembered for being annoying in an already annoying Robbie Robertson video, totally brushed us off. He signed our photos or whatever we were carrying, but I think he actually grunted at us. Kurt Neumann was very nice and polite, but Bonnie made some joke, then said she was being facetious, and he had no idea what "facetious" meant.

Had there been some sex or drugs, we would have encountered all the negative stereotypes about rock musicians in a single night!

Prince: October 30, 1988

What I remember best about this show is that I violated curfew in Detroit to see it. In Michigan, the night before Halloween is known as Devil's Night -- for most of us, an evening of innocent pranks such as egging and toilet-papering houses, but in Detroit things often took a darker turn, with fires being very common. I was still in high school but went to the show with my friend Bonnie. I even remember passing a cop on the way to the show and he just said hello and kept going.

I wish I could recall more about the show. I do remember we were only five or ten rows from the back of Joe Louis Arena, but I was happy just to be seeing Prince at last. He performed in the round, so none of the seats were truly bad. There was no opener: it was just Prince, in a show with two "acts" separated by an intermission. I recall him explaining very politely how he was going to leave the stage for a break, but would be back in approximately such and such minutes to continue the show.

It's funny how memory works, isn't it? Prince is one of my favorite musicians yet it's his polite demeanor that I remember from that night, not the performance.

Dead Milkmen: May 14, 1989

The Ritz, as far as I recall, was a hair-metal bar in Roseville – a rather, um, inelegant suburb of Detroit. The Dead Milkmen were the only band I ever saw there and one of the occasional “alternative” acts that performed there. At this time the Milkmen were touring in support of Beelzebubba, the album containing their big crossover song, “Punk Rock Girl.” However, it’s another track from that album, “RC’s Mom,” that I remember best from the concert. The song is a redneck parody with jokey lyrics about spousal abuse: “Gonna beat my wife / Gonna smack her with a lead pipe.” The lyrics get more outrageous and ridiculous as the song goes on; it’s doubtful even the most humorless of people would take it seriously. Still, it was a little disconcerting seeing a few boys, probably about ten years old, at the front of this all-ages show singing along enthusiastically. Hopefully they were old enough to get the joke! Sadly, I don’t remember much else about the show except it was fun and cheap.

The Roseville Ritz died some time ago but the venue has been resurrected in the city of Warren. Given its current ads for stripper pole contests, divorce parties, and shows hosted by radio station WRIF, I guess it hasn’t changed much. Then again, I haven’t either: The Dead Milkmen’s Bucky Fellini is still one of my favorite albums.