The return of the Rundgren - A rare public post
So many people have been asking me about the Rundgren experience last night, so here's a rare public post.
I have to say that Todd Rundgren always has been and always will be one of my musical heroes, and nobody can be more surprised than me. When I was 17 and a senior in high school, I was literally haunted by "Hello It's Me." That song followed me everywhere - the radio, That 70's show - until I finally broke down and bought a cd. I'll never forget it, I was at the mall with my best friend in high school, Danny, and went to Record Town and bought the cheapest Greatest Hits cd I could find - $7.99! I bought it just to listen to "Hello It's Me" but dug the other songs on the cd. Like Steely Dan some years later, I eventually became intrigued with Todd and wanted to know more about him. But that was several years down the road.
The first time I saw him in concert, I went alone. Town Hall Theater, 2003. I was in the balcony surrounded by the usual crowd of baby boomers trying to recapture their youth, but acting like a bunch of 50 year old assholes. The place wasn't sold out and I was alone in my section, which was fine with me. Onstage, just Todd, a piano, and a guitar. He came on alone and played the piano alone and switched to guitar. Just him, just Todd. When he sang "I Saw the Light" he had backing vocals that he pre-recorded, so it was Todd backing Todd. God, I was so fucking mesmerized. He sang "Bang the Drum" and played it on ukelele. When he sang "Hello It's Me" I burst into tears. Everything came full circle for me. A concert that could have easily been a one time thing for me left me wanting more. I knew that if Todd came around again I would want to see him, this was not a flash in the pan - this was TODD!
Next year, same song, different verse. Q104 was giving away tickets to see Todd and the Liars at Webster Hall and I managed to win two tickets (after the 25th caller hung up and I was lucky 26! I wonder if anyone has ever screamed on the phone after winning Todd tix.). I was the token dirty blonde pile of fabulous in a sea of boomers trying to act cool. People were staring at me like I was a pedophile at a pre-school. One man said to me "You're too young to be a Todd fan." Motherfucker, no fuckin' way, but that's ok, you can buy me a drink to make up for your narrow-minded attitude. Todd took the stage, played most of his new album "Liars" (which I didnt even know existed, that's how in the loop I am) and I danced all night. I knew from that night on that every time I saw Todd it would be a new experience. Who can walk away from that kind of excitement?
2005, once again, another Todd show, another chance for me to be in the audience. My mom bought me a ticket to see him at the Bardavon Opera House in Poughkeepsie and off I went. He was touring with Joe Jackson, how could I pass any of that up?! The opening band, Ethel, was a string quartet. It's like I died and went to Margaret's musical heaven. Violins? Joe Jackson? TODD?! Black Maria and violin solos on "While My Guitar Gently Weeps?" Except for those damned boomers and their children, it was a fabulous evening...until I hit a poor innocent raccoon on the way home, but that's a different story.
I had seen Todd in concert every year for three years, and I've been feeling the shakes. I'm still a bit out of the loop when it comes to Todd, so I was lucky that my friend John Adams informed me that Todd was touring again this summer. I really wanted to see him play Westbury Music Fair, but he would be doing a special "Sgt. Pepper 30th Anniversary Show" that night and I do not pay good money to hear Todd do Beatlemania! So I opted instead to go back to the Bearsville theater, home of the DAMN DIRTY HIPPIES.
Let's get off track for a moment. When I went to Bethel Woods to see Steve Miller and Joe Cocker I was surrounded by asshole boomers, douchebag rude fuckwads, and damn dirty hippies. When I regaled my boss with this story, his response was "HEY! Those are my people!" People, let someone of another generation draw it out for you: there's two types of hippies - the generation of people who are classified as such, but who grew up and while they may maintain their thinking from forty years ago, they still manage to take a shower, get dressed, and go to work with the rest of us. Then there's the DAMN DIRTY HIPPIES who live in upstate New York and haven't gotten the memo that washing is cool and that Woodstock, the festival is over. You see them in the Bethel/Kingston/Woodstock area and they are a scary breed. I like to think they're dressing and behaving like it's 1969 to please the out-of-towners, but deep down I fear it's a lifestyle they've adopted for, well, life. Eep, save me from these people!
So now I'm back in Bearsville, surrounded by the upstate New York crowd and once again I'm out of place. I feel like a Madonna-wannabe in a sea of...well, I don't know what to classify these people as anymore. I'm just trying to get past the awful clothing these people have chosen to wear tonight and get to the bar and to my chosen spot near the stage. As I drive up to Bearsville, I can't help but stroll down memory lane and recall the weekend I spent up here last year with my brother and a handful of Dan-friends, getting ready to see Donald Fagen and Phoebe Snow with Ollabelle. That weekend was so much fun. Tonight, though, I'm once again on my own. I wait on the long line to get my ticket
(The line to see Rundgren was stretched all the way back to Terra Haute! And I was at the end of it), push through the clusterfuck of boomers and hippies, get my hands on an uneven Absolut and Cran and head into the main room to plant my feet about ten feet back from the stage!
The crowd wasn't too intense at first, as they waited for the opening act. A woman from the local radio station (who had the personality of a dial tone) comes on to announce the opening act, Joey Eppard. He's a local favorite, has his own band, but last night was going solo. His guitar playing amazed me, I don't know what kind of electric/acoustic guitar it was, but it sure as hell was funky. His playing reminded me of Denny Dias: very subtle moves but, oh, the sounds that came out! Joey Eppard's set wasn't bad, but I was eager for Todd. He finishes up, takes his guitars off stage, and the radio woman came on to announce a short break. The crowd started to pack into the room and I felt the presence of people crowding closer and closer to where I was standing. Techies took the stage, tuning guitars, setting up water bottles and towels, and the crowd grew more and more antsy. They started clapping, cheering, whistling, screaming, banging on the stage, chanting "WE WANT TODD! WE WANT TODD!" The clock was ticking and all I wanted was for Todd to come on and play so I could go home and go to bed. Then the house lights finally went down, the stage lights went up, the band walked on stage with Todd right behind them! My energy started to pick up as I was once again feet away from my hero. I don't even know what the hell he was playing, he just went into the first song and I was entranced once again. He played "I Saw the Light" and "Black Maria" and I was in love all over. Todd. Fucking Todd.
Then Todd did something I've never seen in concert yet: About four songs in, he says that he finished an album two months ago and was going to play THE WHOLE THING. 13 fucking songs. I was torn. The old man in me looked at the clock and thought "Jesus, it's going to be so late when I get home! I'm so fucking tired!" But the young, fabulous woman in me smiled and thought "Holy shit, he's going to play a whole album!" Jesus, could you imagine if Walter Becker took the stage mid- Steely Dan concert and announced he was going to play Circus Money all the way through? I think I'd have a stroke. Play on! I'm not sure if he played the whole album or not; the old man in me started counting songs, but about two songs in the fabulous woman in me said "FUCK YOU OLD MAN" and lost track. The whole album was outstanding, Todd's music always blows me away. He is one of the few artists who have been making music as long as he has that can continue to do so and still be pleasing to my ears. Todd is fucking god.
The band finishes playing the album, bows, goes off stage, comes back on for a few encores. They played "Couldn't I Just Tell You" and something else I didn't know, but I loved every fucking second of it. Everything about Todd is so amazing. He wails on guitar like he did when he was 25, he still writes and plays fantastic songs, he has the same energy now as he always has, and he's fucking smart and funny as fuck. To me, he is the solo Steely Dan - he's everything about Donald and Walter all rolled into one. I would love to have a conversation with Todd and Donald and Walter. Just the four of us, having lunch in a diner. LUNCH! Not dinner. I want the sun to be out, I want a window booth, a grilled cheese and bacon with fries, no slaw, no pickle, and a root beer. I want to continue to drink several root beers as I get to talk about everything with Don and Walt and Todd. Fuck, that would be so fucking fabulous.