Thursday, June 16, 2011

saying goodbye to socal, part two: music

photo: Sung

One of the things I will miss most about Southern California is the fantastic concerts available down here.

Perhaps the only thing worse than the astronomical rent in Southern California is having to make the decision between a stellar show and paying your astronomical rent.

Radio is ironically terrible in SoCal - as in "Are they serious with this?" kind of bad.  The quality of music on Los Angeles radio clarifies how pieces of trash like Made of Honor get greenlighted.  A city that thrives on creativity sometimes just has to put stuff out, whether it is any good or not.

Fortunately, unlike radio, venues in Southern California are fantastic and plentiful.  With wonderful venues come top shelf musical acts on a regular basis.

By far, one of my favorite memories during my time down here is when Lindsey and I saw Damien Rice at the Greek Theatre.

The Greek is gorgeous and intimate anyway, but the below face-value ninth row tickets I scored off of StubHub compounded the perfection of the environment.

Unfortunately, a loud, intoxicated Latina woman sat down directly behind us in the tenth row.  After three beautiful Irish ballads featured her additional constant solo of, "Ohhhh, Damien Riiiiice, he's so sexyyyy!", I couldn't take it anymore.  Thankfully, some tragic souls failed to redeem the tickets for their fourth row seats, so Lindsey and I upgraded out of earshot of Damien's inebriated admirer.

Damien captured our attention for the rest of the show with magically crafted songs that featured instrumentation so thick it seemed palpable.  His stories amused and connected the pieces to their emotional origin as though Damien was sitting around a living room sharing his new work with close friends.

That night taught me to shoot photos on multiple SD cards because the files became corrupted and left us without any evidence of the evening, but thankfully, it was unforgettable in many better ways.

Lindsey and I got engaged about six weeks after the concert, which meant I would never have to tell another, "It was great, except I was dating _________ at the time" story ever again.  We were madly in love, heard incredible music under a canopy of stars, were surrounded by the lush beauty of Griffith park, and would soon agree to spend the rest of our lives together.  It was by far the best date I've ever been on.

I only ever set foot in the Greek Theatre once, but I will miss it when I'm gone.


  1. Still waiting for number 3, it should have been done yesterday. Actually I think I know what it is...

  2. Sorry. We've been caught up with details of the move.

    What do you think number three will be?

  3. That was a poorly written joke, I meant number three would not be the urgency of EVERYTHING down here


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