Showing posts with label duran duran. Show all posts
Showing posts with label duran duran. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

I Never Stalked a Band I Didn't Like


I've never been much of a celebrity stalker or groupie. I've met a few here and there, mostly by chance and have been pretty much low-key about it. I bumped into Halle Berry outside of a hotel in New York City. Maybe I just never had the opportunity. She was very pretty and nice, by the way.

Fandom is a largely thankless job. I've heard story after story of fans meeting famous musicians and being disappointed or even devastated. Obviously we've got this version in our heads of what our idols are like. If we meet them and they're not like we think, it's disappointing. I think this is the number one reason I so rarely band stalked. I didn't want to be disappointed if that singer just wanted to go to sleep, or that drummer just wanted to eat. I think they should consider that for the fan it's probably a once in a lifetime chance, and a little hassle is worth it for the lifestyle, but I'm not in their shoes.

One of my friends had an extra ticket a fairly exclusive Duran Duran concert recently in Los Angeles, and offered it to me. She also asked me if I was down for some late night stalking. Of course I was. Duran Duran has been one of my favorite bands since I was a teenager. The show was unbelievable.

So at the end of the show comes the wait. I'd heard about this before, since high school. Basically you wait outside the venue for the band to leave and hope for a photo or a signature. So out of a crowd of 1300 there where about 8 of us that hung out in the freezing cold, waiting for someone to come out.

There was another group as well, that my group was sure to stay separate from. I called them the "autograph hounds." These were four guys who all knew each other and were pros. They are the types that get things signed and then sell them on Ebay. Some celebrities don't like them, and many fans don't either. These guys knew everyone coming out of the venue, and there were some VIPs and celebrities I didn't recognize.

The first celebrity sighting was Samantha Ronson, best known as a celebrity DJ, and close friend of Lindsey Lohan. She's also the sister of Mark Ronson, DJ, musician, and producer of the latest Duran Duran album. He also sat in with the band on a couple of tracks. I thought about talking to her about meeting her brother, but she was on the phone, probably with Lindsey, and didn't seem too approachable.

I believe John Taylor, bass player for Duran Duran and fan favorite was the first to leave the after party. He's very tall and sticks out. I noticed him walking across the street to his SUV and driver, with the autograph hounds in tow. He was signing, but definitely walking at the same time. I was a little late and missed my opportunity. He'd gotten into the car. I could have lunged and been "that guy" but chose not to. He obviously wanted to go.

Disheartened, I went back across the street.

Soon after, Moby came out. He's a well-known musician and DJ. He was very nice to the autograph hounds and stopped and talked and signed. I ran up and stuck my hand out and told him I was a fan and it was nice to meet him. He seemed surprised there wasn't more. We looked at each other for a moment, smiled, and then he moved on.

Next out the door, and quickly, was the rare and elusive Marilyn Manson. It would have been interesting to meet him, but he was too quick to bolt, chased by the  autograph hounds that literally had to run to keep up with him.

At this point we moved our position, and for me, the coup of the night occurred. Mark Ronson came out of the side door carrying his guitars. My friend asked if he would pose for a couple of pictures and he said he would after he loaded his stuff. So he stopped and took a few pictures with me and signed my poster. He was very gracious and patient and dapper. I babbled, "thank you for what you've done for Duran Duran," as he's truly helped revitalize their career, and "you're obviously a fan." He said he was, and thanked me.

We could have waited longer and maybe gotten a Duran signature, but it was late, cold, and wet. I'd seen one of my favorite bands closer than ever before, and closer than I'd probably see them again. I lucked out on a ticket, front of the line, and front of the stage. I also got one of the signatures and a meeting I was hoping for. I was happy.

Perhaps if I'd waited just a little longer…

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Stubs

I’ve been to a lot of shows and seen a lot of bands. There’s nothing like a good live show. There are those moments that are transcendent and take you into an alternate reality. That’s why I love music and a good live show. Music should change your life and a good live show can change your life.

My first concert was Duran Duran in 1987 on the Strange Behavior tour, for the Notorious album with Erasure opening. That show helped set the bar for my live show expectations from then on.

I’ve run the gamut from the giant arena shows, to the sweaty stinky club shows where you can reach out and touch the band. I’ve seen arena shows where you can hardly see the band, and I’ve seen stadium shows where the artist makes you feel like you’re seeing him in a club (Eric Clapton at Dodger Stadium, if you’re wondering).

I’ve seen shows I’ll never forget, and some I’m sure I don’t even remember.

I was privy to a local music scene that almost exploded after a casual reference in Spin magazine to San Diego as “the next Seattle” following the emergence of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains and so on.

I’ve even played a few live shows myself.

I still have that Duran Duran ticket stub. After that show, I made a goal that I would keep all the stubs from all the shows I went to. I think I do have most of the stubs from nearly 20 years of going to live shows. There are some stubs I misplaced, some shows without tickets, and some where the careless ticket taker tore them sloppily.

I started keeping them in a drawer, then in a cigar box. Eventually I moved them into a small photo album. When I moved into my new house, I found my ticket album in a box. I wish I had kept some sort of journal and wrote about each show as it happened, but I didn’t. I just have my stubs and my memories.