Rock of Older Ages

I had given up going to rock concerts mainly because there weren’t any bands that I wanted to see. I had seen everyone that I wanted to see over the past, oh, 40 years. Plus, the few big names that I did want to see cost way too much or were playing such huge venues that even expensive seats required opera glasses to see the video screen.

The last local concerts that I had seen were at the High Street Theater when Larry Janss, a local philanthropist/hippie, did his best to bring rock to Moorpark. The shows were Leon Russell and John Sebastian, although not together.

My introduction to rock concerts was one of privilege. It was in Chicago, and I was 15 years old. The boy who took me had a bit of an “in” and we had seats usually reserved for royalty, front row, center for—wait for it—the Rolling Stones. When Mick Jagger showered the audience with rose petals, I was covered in them. Needless to say, that never happened again.

In college, my boyfriend worked as a roadie sometimes. Occasionally I sat in the press box or perched on the lighting board or even went backstage during the show, taking great care not to get in the way. Once I was given an onstage pass and was hoisted on top of one of those monster speakers facing the audience where I was personally serenaded by Papa John Creach. Yes, life was good for a few hours. Very good.

This past week I once again felt the thrill of a great rock concert. Larry Janss decided to hold a series of summer-long concert and art exhibit fundraisers in Thousand Oaks for his non-profit group called Regenerate Films. Janss threw an opening night party for his first concert: Ray Manzerak, the former keyboardist for the Doors. Listening to those familiar runs time-warped me back to my first days in high school.

But the real treat this week was the once-in-a-lifetime concert at the Santa Barbara Bowl to see a band that had not played together since 1968. This brief configuration of future superstars, Neil Young, Steve Stills, and Richie Furay, sprang to life again as Buffalo Springfield. I could not believe my luck in finding really good seats online. It is a relatively small venue, about 5,000 seats, and no video screen in sight.

The first thing that jumped out at me was the average age of the audience members. I was one of the youngest there. The woman in front of me asked what grade I was in when the band was popular like it was a pop quiz. I think I passed. I certainly knew nearly all of the lyrics to the songs. I even predicted to my husband which song would be up next. It was. And the performers were clearly having a lot of fun on stage.

Neil Young took on the role of emcee, telling jokes and stories between songs, leading the number of choruses for the band, and once even stopping a song midway and restarting it after a moment of clarifying the chords. For that moment, I felt like a fly on the wall during one fabulous rehearsal.

I had never seen Young in concert, despite learning several of his early songs on the piano. I had studied his album covers and liner notes. I knew he was one of the greatest singer/songwriters of our time.

Now, I have not only heard him play live, but was there for his jokes about grey hair and the band not having enough songs to fill out an entire concert. The vast space between legendary performers and admirers disappeared and the entire aging audience hooted and danced like they were 16 once again. Priceless.