by My friend Kevin took me to a Good Rats concert last night. They’re a longtime Long Island band, which is where I grew up. I have zero memory of having ever seen them. This is not my type of music so if I ever went to one of their concerts I would never have gone again. I’d describe it as blue collar rock and roll, “greaser” music. But the lead singer can really sing, they were all good musicians, really good, and there was a friendly family feel to the mostly older audience. I could have done without the lead singer simulating masturbation with a beer bottle and then spraying the audience (and me) with beer. My clothes were fresh out of the laundry! (When you don’t have a washer and dryer and have to take your clothes somewhere to be cleaned this is a bigger deal.)
The audience was mostly men who knew all the words and frequently sang along and pumped their fists in the air. But my movie begins with this song where they invited all the women up onto the stage. I was afraid it was going to be a major ick moment, but it was sweet in reality.
