I love going to shows – even if I don’t really know the band too well, the energy of a concert is always infectious. People rocking out to their favorite band exude an energy… It’s really unlike any other, and it’s completely infectious. I love it.
So when Mike asked me if I wanted a spare ticket to see Sublime, I was in. At the time I honestly didn’t even remember who Sublime was, but after a quick peruse through my iPod I was up to speed, remembering some of their more popular songs and getting myself amped up to head over to the Pavilion on Boston Harbor to see them.
But, as is the usual with trips, the journey to the concert turned out to be as much of an adventure as the actual concert itself. I had left work a bit early, and left my car at Mikes apartment in favor of riding my bike through the city to the Bank of America Pavilion where the concert was being held.
But, I had neglected to write down directions. As the egotistical Bostonian that I am I thought that I knew the city well enough to make my way over without too much difficulty. An assumption that, while not completely wrong, was a bit farther from correct than I would have hoped.
My first mistake was taking the side streets, versus braving the traffic of the major roads. The problem was that I didn’t actually know the side streets and instead relied on my sense of direction to guide me. Which would have worked well, if Boston’s streets follow any discernible pattern. But they don’t, so while I knew which way I wanted to go, I couldn’t find a way to actually go there.
I was making fairly solid progress regardless though, and had stopped in for a bite of dinner when I realized my first major mistake – I had left the ticket back in my car.
So I finished up my Chinese (yay cheap Chinese takeout!), saddled back up, and biked back to Mikes… while favoring the main streets this time. After some frantic searching of my car (read: it took 20min of tearing the entire car apart to find the dang things) I finally had the tickets securely stuffed in my wallet, and was back on the bike heading back towards the Pavilion.
This time, I took the boring way – directly through the highway into Boston. It was a bit more hair-raising, thanks to the 50 mph speed limit, but the rear blinker on my bike and a years worth of commuting gave me the edge I needed to pull on ahead of the cars and make it safely to the concert in record time. Google said 45min? I did that in 30. Aww yeah.
The concert itself, at least until Sublime came on, was rather boring to be honest. Cypress Hill was playing when I arrived (a bit late, after spending a good 20min drooling near a Ferrari 458), but I honestly spent most of the time just relaxing and trying to tune them out. I mean, They have some cool songs… but when they’re bragging about being “the Highest men on earth” and then rapping about murdering people… I feel that they’re a bit confused about what “being high” actually means.
But Sublime did finally come on, right about when Mike finally showed up, incidentally. And when they came on… well, basically they were amazing. Guys who obviously enjoyed what they were doing, jamming out on stage and seeming to play songs at random. Obviously they had a set list, but… if you let yourself go for a bit you could easily imagine that they were just kicking it somewhere and playing whatever came to mind at the time.
We’d spent the first half of the set chilling at our table and listening to the tunes, but Mike was starting to get restless, and I tended to agree – it was time to head down and try to sneak into the pit.
We made it most of the way, and ended up rocking out in one of the aisles about half-way into the tent itself. We just chilled for a bit, but then found ourselves pulled into an impromptu jam-circle full of very brightly-colored people dancing around. Glowsticks and bandanas were everywhere, so we felt right at home rocking out… albeit in a very chilled way.
The show lasted until sometime around 23:00 or so, through two encores and a whole lot of shouting done by yours truly. An upside of being the former Shofar (a horn used in the Jewish High Holidays) player for our temple is that I have a rather stellar ability to project my voice… and to howl loudly when a band is pretending that there isn’t an encore 🙂
Afterwards Mike and I biked back to his place via one of the trans-Cambridge bike paths. It was chill, but soon enough we were back at the parking lot outside his place. So I said my goodbyes, re-packed my car, jumped in, and started chewing through the miles back to Medway.