Kris Kristofferson, Gig the Second
The man is a LEGEND.
The first time we went to see him, he was absolutely dosed, armed with a very large handkerchief, sneezing, coughing, and saying "Sorry, you folks all paid a lot of money to come and watch an old fart blow his nose", and I still thought he was the bee's knees and the cat's pyjamas. This time, he was flu-free and in great form, and spent his time telling stories about songs and other people covering his songs, and being by turns amused and bewildered by the tendency of Belfast audiences to carry on shouted conversations with the stage in accents incomprehensible to most Americans (cue "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that....No, I have no idea what you're saying. Are we speakin' the same language here??"). And pronouncing it to be the best night of the tour, because while most people didn't sing along (which is a pity, because the Waterfront has fantastic acoustics and makes the most tuneless crowd sound like a choir) we did supply him with applause of ridiculous lengths at the end of every song, the beginning of about half, and even sometimes in the middle. He even got a standing ovation at the end, which is even more impressive than it sounds because the seats in the Waterfront are raked so steeply as a) provide everyone with a great view of the stage and b) make them slightly wary of bouncing up to cheer.
In short, he was fabulous and I love him. I have done since I was about four, when he was my first introduction to songs about real life rather than nursery rhymes and mice in windmills. So if you don't know who he is, youtube him. You'll be surprised how many songs you know that you thought were by other people - I will forgive any Johnny Cash fans on the basis that Cash was pretty awesome himself. And if he's playing near you, go. Sing along. Cheer. It makes him happy, and that is a Good Thing.
Start here.
The first time we went to see him, he was absolutely dosed, armed with a very large handkerchief, sneezing, coughing, and saying "Sorry, you folks all paid a lot of money to come and watch an old fart blow his nose", and I still thought he was the bee's knees and the cat's pyjamas. This time, he was flu-free and in great form, and spent his time telling stories about songs and other people covering his songs, and being by turns amused and bewildered by the tendency of Belfast audiences to carry on shouted conversations with the stage in accents incomprehensible to most Americans (cue "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that....No, I have no idea what you're saying. Are we speakin' the same language here??"). And pronouncing it to be the best night of the tour, because while most people didn't sing along (which is a pity, because the Waterfront has fantastic acoustics and makes the most tuneless crowd sound like a choir) we did supply him with applause of ridiculous lengths at the end of every song, the beginning of about half, and even sometimes in the middle. He even got a standing ovation at the end, which is even more impressive than it sounds because the seats in the Waterfront are raked so steeply as a) provide everyone with a great view of the stage and b) make them slightly wary of bouncing up to cheer.
In short, he was fabulous and I love him. I have done since I was about four, when he was my first introduction to songs about real life rather than nursery rhymes and mice in windmills. So if you don't know who he is, youtube him. You'll be surprised how many songs you know that you thought were by other people - I will forgive any Johnny Cash fans on the basis that Cash was pretty awesome himself. And if he's playing near you, go. Sing along. Cheer. It makes him happy, and that is a Good Thing.
Start here.
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