She's even worse in person
I along with two of my roommates, work at the box office of the Bank of America Pavilion, which is akin to the Shoreline Amphitheatre. It's a neat venue: it's outside, on the harbor, has concession stands not unlike you might find at a ballpark, and an enormous tent covers the seating and stage area. She holds somewhere in the neighborhood of 5000 people.
Ashlee Simpson played there Tuesday night and was having a hard time filling the place, poor dear, so the Pavilion "papered" the show, which means they were giving out as many tickets as there were takers for freebies. My friends and I nabbed ten because, well, they were free. The plan was to get sloshed and go to what we believed would ultimately be a great laugh at Ms Simpson's expense.
Once inside we realized our seats weren't bad at all, but we had to endure the musical stylings of some dope at a keyboard with a semi-backwards (you know what I mean) cap and then the true opener, the very fine Ashley Parker Angel, somewhat famously of the group O-Town. It's a wonder they never caught on. With a name like that...
Anyhow, he was utter crap. Honestly, it was like being at amateur night at T's Pub down the street. Or maybe karaoke night at the same place. Either way, it was bad enough to peel the enamel from your teeth. I'm kind of beating a dead horse, but I want it to be clear just how bad he was. Rubbish through-and-through.
Ashlee came on, and she was far worse than even I imagined she would be, and I had prepared for someone just putting one ofher albums and letting people dance to that. She didn't dance, she certainly didn't sing, and frankly I think she's not terribly attractive. Triple threat, really.
My friends Chris and Kevin had gone to see Madonna the night before and were treated to something extra because they got to note the gulf between the two performers within about 24 hours' time. Pushing-50 Madonna arrived onstage in a $2 million disco ball. She was wearing knee-high boots, satin pants, a leather bustier, a top hat with a mane of hair down to her ass and she was carrying a diamond-studded riding crop. Ashlee Simpson had black pants and a nosejob that somehow didn't repair her vocal cords. Madonna put on a pink leotard, stuck her leg behind her head, did a backflip and landed in a split position. Ashlee Simpson said, "All right, y'all, I'm gonna introduce my band now, so give 'em some love!" and walked offstage to let her band play for a few minutes. She never mentioned their names.
Her backup band, by the way, had dogs howling in Vermont. All I could hear was noise -- loud noise -- and according to my boss she didn't do a soundcheck before the show. It kind of goes without saying (but when has that stopped me in the past?), but the sound was abysmal. Overmodulated, distorted, too effing loud, couldn't hear her (more of a blessing, really), drums louder than anything else...
in short, she was a complete and utter catastrophe. We had LOADS of fun, though. Some guy traded us eight VIP tickets and passes to a lounge for five cigarettes. Yeah, it was that knid of show. The Pavilion gave away 900 tickets, FYI. Miss Ashlee sold about 1900 on her own, so well done, her.
In other news, my iTunes has taken it upon itself to translate half of my Amélie soundtrack's songs into English. It's very strange. Any thoughts?
Ashlee Simpson played there Tuesday night and was having a hard time filling the place, poor dear, so the Pavilion "papered" the show, which means they were giving out as many tickets as there were takers for freebies. My friends and I nabbed ten because, well, they were free. The plan was to get sloshed and go to what we believed would ultimately be a great laugh at Ms Simpson's expense.
Once inside we realized our seats weren't bad at all, but we had to endure the musical stylings of some dope at a keyboard with a semi-backwards (you know what I mean) cap and then the true opener, the very fine Ashley Parker Angel, somewhat famously of the group O-Town. It's a wonder they never caught on. With a name like that...
Anyhow, he was utter crap. Honestly, it was like being at amateur night at T's Pub down the street. Or maybe karaoke night at the same place. Either way, it was bad enough to peel the enamel from your teeth. I'm kind of beating a dead horse, but I want it to be clear just how bad he was. Rubbish through-and-through.
Ashlee came on, and she was far worse than even I imagined she would be, and I had prepared for someone just putting one ofher albums and letting people dance to that. She didn't dance, she certainly didn't sing, and frankly I think she's not terribly attractive. Triple threat, really.
My friends Chris and Kevin had gone to see Madonna the night before and were treated to something extra because they got to note the gulf between the two performers within about 24 hours' time. Pushing-50 Madonna arrived onstage in a $2 million disco ball. She was wearing knee-high boots, satin pants, a leather bustier, a top hat with a mane of hair down to her ass and she was carrying a diamond-studded riding crop. Ashlee Simpson had black pants and a nosejob that somehow didn't repair her vocal cords. Madonna put on a pink leotard, stuck her leg behind her head, did a backflip and landed in a split position. Ashlee Simpson said, "All right, y'all, I'm gonna introduce my band now, so give 'em some love!" and walked offstage to let her band play for a few minutes. She never mentioned their names.
Her backup band, by the way, had dogs howling in Vermont. All I could hear was noise -- loud noise -- and according to my boss she didn't do a soundcheck before the show. It kind of goes without saying (but when has that stopped me in the past?), but the sound was abysmal. Overmodulated, distorted, too effing loud, couldn't hear her (more of a blessing, really), drums louder than anything else...
in short, she was a complete and utter catastrophe. We had LOADS of fun, though. Some guy traded us eight VIP tickets and passes to a lounge for five cigarettes. Yeah, it was that knid of show. The Pavilion gave away 900 tickets, FYI. Miss Ashlee sold about 1900 on her own, so well done, her.
In other news, my iTunes has taken it upon itself to translate half of my Amélie soundtrack's songs into English. It's very strange. Any thoughts?