Donna Summer: August 30, 2008

Ravinia is a scenic outdoor venue north of Chicago where the elaborate picnics of those with lawn seats are just as much of an attraction as the artist who happens to be playing. In fact, from most spots on the lawn the picnickers are all you see, as the stage is completely out of view. Usually my friends and I will  retreat to an area behind the pavilion briefly so that we can at least catch a glimpse of the performers. The lawn is a lovely sight, though, where far from "roughing it," people bring tablecloths, candelabras, real silverware and wine glasses, and elaborate foods. Behind the genteel facade, however, tensions are sometimes ready to bubble over. Maybe it's because of the venue's negative aspects: The lawn is oversold and overcrowded; because of the obstructed view, the lawn sometimes attracts partiers rather than people there to see the bands; the Metra trains that many patrons use to get home are overcrowded and prone to delays; people get really drunk.

On the way home from this show we were trapped on the top level of a very crowded Metra train with a few dozen boozy fifty-something women. Frankly, they scared me a little. Still slamming down vodka on the train, they apparently weren't the only ones at the show to get a little rowdy. The next day a news story appeared saying that two parties of picnickers had gotten into fisticuffs when one tried to steal the other's picnic space. It's not everyday you see the headline "Brawl At Ravinia" on the Huffington Post, but it is everyday (at least in the summer) that you can see patrons scrambling to claim space on the Ravinia lawn.

But when, you may ask, are you actually going to talk about Donna Summer? Well, I figure a description of the patrons is valid since it's a big part of the concert-going experience, and in the case of a show from the Ravinia lawn, the patrons are pretty much the main attraction. As for La Donna, she was touring in support of what turned out to be her final studio album, Crayons. She performed some songs from it along with other "newer" (i.e. not disco) songs and the material went over well since it was mostly upbeat and danceable -- just what the crowd wanted. She also sang many of her big hits from the '70s and '80s including "I Feel Love," "Bad Girls, "Last Dance," and "She Works Hard for the Money." She looked great decked out in an evening gown (we ventured down to the "holding pen" for a peek) and her voice was just as smooth and powerful as ever.

Hearing the quality of Summer's vocals, it was like time had stood still. Seeing the middle-aged crowd freak out whenever she launched into another disco hit, however, it was clear just how much time had passed. Ravinia was a long way from Studio 54, but you could see some of the audience going back in time, if only in their minds, if only for a few minutes. Maybe it is only because of nostalgia, but disco has withstood the test of time. And Summer, as the queen of the genre, has too. When she passed away in May 2012, it was clear from the many tributes to her in the media and on the web that she had earned the respect that was denied for too many years to artists slapped with the "disco" label.

Blur: October 2, 1995

It's still somewhat odd to me to think that while Blur reigned supreme in British hearts and charts, they were playing relatively small clubs in America. It makes sense, though, since their music of this period was almost insularly British. That's not to say Americans couldn't relate to it, but it took some open-mindedness and at least a slight understanding of Brit culture for Americans to find a point of entry.

This show took place just a few weeks after the release of The Great Escape, the follow-up to what is generally considered to be the band's masterpiece, Parklife. Expectations were high, and although it was a solid album, ultimately it would be considered a disappointment by most. At any rate its exploration of the dark side of middle-class life was a mostly somber listen and a harbinger of the '90s hangover to come. It also signaled time for a musical change, and Blur's next album would be a decidedly different affair that incorporated a grittier and more indie-influenced sound. Of course, none of this was on the minds of the crowd that night since we'd only had a couple of weeks to mull over the new album. In essence, the band and audience were still riding high on Parklife. A lot of the material was culled from that album, including an attempt at the title track (performed by actor Phil Daniels on the album) that resulted in Damon Albarn flubbing a few lines -- but he laughed it off. Several other songs from the set list were culled from The Great Escape and Modern Life Is Rubbish.

The Swedish outfit Whale opened, still coasting on their one and only semi-hit "Hobo Humpin' Slobo Babe," which is as atrocious as it sounds. (Time has not been kind to their debut album, We Care -- although I liked it at the time.) The show was all ages, and I'm surprised to see the door time listed as 8 p.m. on the ticket, because I recall it was still daylight out when we got there. Blur's American audience made up for in enthusiasm what it might have lacked in numbers. I remember the crowd as being very lively and it was a great night, even if it had to end before curfew.

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.