Against My Better Judgment

I had boycotted the recent tour by The Who, partially because of the outrageous prices and partially because, no matter how irrational it is, I still show up at their concerts half-expecting to see Pete walk out in a white jumpsuit with a cherry red SG and a stack of HiWatts. As a result, the concert is always fun but disappointing.

But I had read some reviews of the recent tour and they were generally positive, so when a pair of tix (offered by the lovely Scottish Lass with whom the Misanthrope has spent so much time of late) were offered to me this morning, I broke down and agreed to go. With a new record coming out, Townshend appears more engaged than in recent years, so I am interested to see how they are.

By contrast, last week I went to see the fantastic M. Ward at Webster Hall (tix courtesy of the delightful Carrie). I first discovered M. Ward at Southpaw in 2003 when he was the middle opener of Vic Chesnutt. At that show, he was playing by himself with just an acoustic guitar and his harmonica, but I was so struck by his songs and his guitar playing that I immediately bought his records. The upside of that discovery has been the chance to see a true talent in his prime. It's nice to see a show where he plays the songs I want to hear because they came off his most recent record. At Webster Hall, he had a full band (two drummers!) and he seemed, for the first time since I started seeing him, to be fully in control and connecting with his audience. If you want to hear great songs with great guitar playing, see him whenever he comes to your town.

Now, off to fantasyland...