DEREK NEMIROW


Derek wrote this review of the Lupo's show (02-19-1994).

Review by Derek Nemirow The girl I had been dating for 6 months was about to have a birthday and to celebrate we decided to go see Tool in Boston on the 16th. While we were at the show, her car was broken into and all of her things in it were stolen, her wallet, schoolbooks, cds, clothes, etc. It was a terrible thing to have happen. On her birthday that Friday, after she had had her window fixed, we were hanging out and decided that since we had been hanging out everyday since we had met, that on that Saturday, we would go out individually with our friends for a change. Now, around this time, I was listening to Blind Melon quite a bit, (I should note that I had turned her on to them as well, actually we were quite obsessed,) but I also was heavily into tons of other bands too, which is why I don't fully understand why it was Blind Melon that appeared in my dreams that night. That night I dreamt that I hung out and smoked some weed with the guys. When I woke up it was so vivid that I thought it actually happened. I couldn't remember where it happened, or the events that led up to it happening only that it did. I threw on the cd and began scouring the Boston Phoenix for possible things to do that evening and was stunned when I read that playing that night at Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel in Providence was Blind Melon followed by the words SOLD OUT. I paced around my bedroom in utter disbelief. Could it be true? Were they playing a mere 45 minutes away and was it really sold out? I made a desperate call to the club hoping for, but not expecting a miracle. The gentleman on the other end of the line said that they had just taken out a handful of tables and chairs that morning and roughly 100 more tickets had become available as a result. I almost passed out when I heard this. My first instinct was to call my girlfriend at work and tell her to scrap her plans and use her car to go get tix. But what if I did all of that and couldn't get them after all? I reluctantly asked my dad for his car and was met with the usual speech about there being no need for me to waste my money on another concert followed by the inevitable "No!" Not letting this minor setback deter me, I quickly loaded a copy of the self-titled album into my Walkman and hit the trail. It would have taken me many hours to walk to the nearest Ticketmaster, but it was 9am, I had all day, and I had really good luck with rides finding me. After I had walked about 3 miles in record time, my dad pulled up along side me and said that if I brought him back home, I could use his car for an hour to do what I had to do. I wanted to tell him forget it, but this was not the time to be stubborn. I was overwhelmed with anticipation the entire way to the ticket outlet and was literally shaking as the tickets were placed in my hand. I had never felt such an amazing rush in my entire life as I had that moment. I had tickets to see Blind Melon that night as the headlining act of three bands! Suffice it to say, my at-the-time girlfriend promptly cancelled her plans for the evening upon my revelation of the tickets, and we were on our way. We arrived in Providence at 5:30pm for the 8:30pm show because our excitement regarding the prospect of seeing Blind Melon made us overly anxious to get there. We had made several unfruitful attempts to procure some of our favorite recreational smoking substance and therefore were quite restless. Instead of mingling outside with the horde of enthusiastic Melon heads gathered by the tour bus, we entered the venue and learned that not only was there a no re-entry policy, but also it would still be more than two hours before the first band. The ticket said 7:30, but that was merely a guideline. We learned that in Providence, more often than not, shows started and ran real late. In fact, the set time list revealed that Blind Melon would not be on stage until after midnight. I was so wired that I figured there was only one way to calm down; I started drinking. While consuming the 3rd of what would end up being 12 beers that evening, I began to loosen up. I put my drink down on a speaker cabinet with the name of the second opening act and said, "Who the fuck are the Meat Puppets?" Shortly thereafter, two big-haired gentlemen approached our pool table and asked if they could join us. Having no interest in losing control of the pool table that we had waited over an hour for, I told them rather rudely to fuck off and wait their turn. A few minutes later the show began. I mostly just walked around the club and drank during Alice Donut's set and really didn't hear much of any of it; it basically served as background noise. When the Meat Puppets took the stage, I was quite buzzed and belligerent as my behavior during their set clearly indicated. I hollered colorful expressions like: "You suck!" and "Get off the stage!" and of course "Blind Melon!!!" at the top of my lungs. During this obnoxious display it was pointed out to me by my companion, that it was the brothers Kirkwood in the Meat Puppets that I had told off at the pool table. By now however, I had no time to feel ashamed for my blatant lack of respect for anyone unlucky enough to cross the path of my words, because Blind Melon was up next and the rest of the world could go up in flames for all I cared, as long as I saw them play. We stood in front of the left side of the stage as the band took their places and a barrage of cheers rang forth from the sold-out crowd. An eerie, almost haunting musical intro pierced the smoke filled air in the club while the guys stood in trance like stillness on the stage. With anticipation of things to come built up to a fever pitch, the Melons launched into "I Wonder," which hurled the audience members into frenzied dancing. Bodies piled on top of bodies as crowd surfers took delight in the high-energy sensation that was Blind Melon live. About 2 minutes into the 3rd song of the set, "Time," Shannon stopped the show and demanded that security remove the barricade that 'protected' the band from the crowd, also behind which staff members could maneuver in front of the stage. This came about because the crowd surfers and those dancing were being mercilessly crushed into it as people in the back pushed forward toward the stage. After what seemed like an eternity (about 20 minutes in reality,) the band came back out and re-launched into "Time." With the barricade removed, the stage and the dance floor may as well have been one and the same. Enthusiastic audience members were now weaving in and out of band members and stage diving commenced. The hour and a half long set included all of the songs from the debut album, the otherworldly "Ripped Away" intro to "No Rain," a verse from the Allman Brother's Band classic "Midnight Rider" in the middle of "Holyman," and the b-side rarity "W.O.O.H. Dog." Although no new material that I can recall was played, I could not have been happier with the performance. I've never seen a band so at home with their fans, so far away from their real homes, especially a band who was approaching 2 years on the road. They showed no signs of fatigue and played every song as though it was their newest and most exciting composition being road tested for the first time. Those gathered to worship at the altar of Melon responded in kind by singing along throughout the set and giving the band back their boundless energy ten fold. I was left standing in a daze at the show's conclusion, but not from the alcohol. In fact, at some point during the festivities the alcohol buzz subsided and all that I could feel was the adrenalin rush from the music. Much to my dismay, I must have been more intoxicated than I thought, because while I recalled that the evening simply ended with me sleeping during the ride home, (which I did), I was reminded later by my companion that she and I were invited by Shannon and Brad to party on the tour bus with the band and a handful of fans that had stuck around after exiting the show. She said that I had declined, citing the lack of a joint to smoke with my heroes as the reason. I don't remember this, but I'll always regret it. It could have been a dream come true. credit: blindmelon.org