Rollin' Over Their First Rock
When a group of people who don’t know each other real well get together, a fun icebreaker is having everyone name the band they saw at their first rock concert.
Note: Every one of the editors who runs my column asked me to pause here for a moment so they could fondly reminisce about their own first concert experiences. You’re cordially invited to spend this time doing the same. I’ll even add a extra couple moments for those who attended their first concert in such an, um, “altered state of consciousness” that they’re struggling to remember if any band performed at all.
Well, my No 3 and No. 4 sons, ages 12 and 10, now have their lifelong answer to the “first concert” question. My wife and I took them to see Daughtry.
At this point, readers of my mom and dad’s generation are most likely saying, “Daughtry? What’s a ‘Daughtry’?” This is understandable, since in their youthful heyday a hot concert happening was a show by Tommy or Jimmy Dorsey. (About whom my parents’ parents most likely said, “Dorsey? What’s a ‘Dorsey’?”)
For those who don’t know, Daughtry is the eponymous name of a band fronted by Chris Daughtry, a guy who nearly won “American Idol” a couple years ago, and who I hope knows that “eponymous” is not a derogatory or insulting term. I don’t think.
During his “American Idol” run, Chris Daughtry carved out a distinct marketing position for himself versus his competition. He was that season’s “rocker,” which he communicated via important visual cues such as shaving his head (designed to disguise the onset of male pattern baldness), wearing lots of black, regularly altering his facial hair arrangement, and, no matter what song he was singing, generally trying to look po’d.
Nowadays, Daughtry continues to project this consistent brand image, even though he’s now completely awash in dough from his post-“Idol” successes, and would seem to have very little to be po'd about. Still, his official website touts his “signature ache,” and has a collection of pictures of him looking vaguely irritated, as though his manager just booked him to perform at Simon Cowell’s birthday party.
(A simple Google exercise shows he’s not so grim all the time. I found a nice photo of him standing next to the 2005 “American Idol” champ, Carrie Underwood, and he's sporting a slightly goofy, starstruck grin.)
The Daughtry concert was packed, yet almost every seat was empty. Because people stood the whole time. They even stood while getting rock ‘n’ rolled over by the opening act, an outfit called 12 Stones.
I found 12 Stones kind of fun, mainly because their songs were neither too depressing nor too saccharine. Well, as far as I know. Their sound was so distorted, they could’ve been performing a rock version of the “My Fair Lady” soundtrack. Anyway, friends and neighbors have been very impressed when I casually tell them we just saw “the Stones.”
After 12 Stones rolled off the stage, we got the thrill of the night: Strolling through the aisle right in front of us was Chris Daughtry! Except it wasn’t. It was just a guy with a shaved head and an offbeat facial hair arrangement, meant to make him LOOK like Chris Daughtry. During the remainder of the concert, we spotted scads more Daughtry look-alikes. Several were nearly identical to him, especially that lady two rows ahead of us.
I wonder if this might be a new metric on the spreadsheet of pop culture importance: How quickly one inspires celebrity impersonation. Of course, when it comes to counting my look-alikes, it’s awfully tough separating those who are mimicking me from the George Clooney impersonators.
When Daughtry finally took the stage, the noise level had to delight any hearing aid salespersons in the audience. There was screeching, there was screaming, there was off-key sing-alonging. Then Daughtry applied the coup de grace: He sang through a bullhorn. You know, JUST TO MAKE SURE HE CAME IN LOUD AND CLEAR.
I thought this was sort of over-the-top abuse of our anvils, hammers and stirrups. But then I made out the lyrics to the song and it made much more sense: “Come on out of there/With the money in your hands!/Go spend it all up/At our souvenir stands!”
Which we did, buying No. 3 son an official Daughtry t-shirt, which he’ll someday have the joy of showing off to his own children when they ask “Daughtry? What’s a ‘Daughtry’?”
# # #
TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
Note: Every one of the editors who runs my column asked me to pause here for a moment so they could fondly reminisce about their own first concert experiences. You’re cordially invited to spend this time doing the same. I’ll even add a extra couple moments for those who attended their first concert in such an, um, “altered state of consciousness” that they’re struggling to remember if any band performed at all.
Well, my No 3 and No. 4 sons, ages 12 and 10, now have their lifelong answer to the “first concert” question. My wife and I took them to see Daughtry.
At this point, readers of my mom and dad’s generation are most likely saying, “Daughtry? What’s a ‘Daughtry’?” This is understandable, since in their youthful heyday a hot concert happening was a show by Tommy or Jimmy Dorsey. (About whom my parents’ parents most likely said, “Dorsey? What’s a ‘Dorsey’?”)
For those who don’t know, Daughtry is the eponymous name of a band fronted by Chris Daughtry, a guy who nearly won “American Idol” a couple years ago, and who I hope knows that “eponymous” is not a derogatory or insulting term. I don’t think.
During his “American Idol” run, Chris Daughtry carved out a distinct marketing position for himself versus his competition. He was that season’s “rocker,” which he communicated via important visual cues such as shaving his head (designed to disguise the onset of male pattern baldness), wearing lots of black, regularly altering his facial hair arrangement, and, no matter what song he was singing, generally trying to look po’d.
Nowadays, Daughtry continues to project this consistent brand image, even though he’s now completely awash in dough from his post-“Idol” successes, and would seem to have very little to be po'd about. Still, his official website touts his “signature ache,” and has a collection of pictures of him looking vaguely irritated, as though his manager just booked him to perform at Simon Cowell’s birthday party.
(A simple Google exercise shows he’s not so grim all the time. I found a nice photo of him standing next to the 2005 “American Idol” champ, Carrie Underwood, and he's sporting a slightly goofy, starstruck grin.)
The Daughtry concert was packed, yet almost every seat was empty. Because people stood the whole time. They even stood while getting rock ‘n’ rolled over by the opening act, an outfit called 12 Stones.
I found 12 Stones kind of fun, mainly because their songs were neither too depressing nor too saccharine. Well, as far as I know. Their sound was so distorted, they could’ve been performing a rock version of the “My Fair Lady” soundtrack. Anyway, friends and neighbors have been very impressed when I casually tell them we just saw “the Stones.”
After 12 Stones rolled off the stage, we got the thrill of the night: Strolling through the aisle right in front of us was Chris Daughtry! Except it wasn’t. It was just a guy with a shaved head and an offbeat facial hair arrangement, meant to make him LOOK like Chris Daughtry. During the remainder of the concert, we spotted scads more Daughtry look-alikes. Several were nearly identical to him, especially that lady two rows ahead of us.
I wonder if this might be a new metric on the spreadsheet of pop culture importance: How quickly one inspires celebrity impersonation. Of course, when it comes to counting my look-alikes, it’s awfully tough separating those who are mimicking me from the George Clooney impersonators.
When Daughtry finally took the stage, the noise level had to delight any hearing aid salespersons in the audience. There was screeching, there was screaming, there was off-key sing-alonging. Then Daughtry applied the coup de grace: He sang through a bullhorn. You know, JUST TO MAKE SURE HE CAME IN LOUD AND CLEAR.
I thought this was sort of over-the-top abuse of our anvils, hammers and stirrups. But then I made out the lyrics to the song and it made much more sense: “Come on out of there/With the money in your hands!/Go spend it all up/At our souvenir stands!”
Which we did, buying No. 3 son an official Daughtry t-shirt, which he’ll someday have the joy of showing off to his own children when they ask “Daughtry? What’s a ‘Daughtry’?”
# # #
TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
posted by Don Stuart at 10:23 AM
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