Going to 80s and 90s Concerts is Awesome — And Depressing as Hell
Some rockers are showing the wear and tear, others are still bringing it
![A band playing on stage with the audience cheering. A band playing on stage with the audience cheering.](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff7323366-43fd-4e89-bcbf-1884fe2fa92a_1400x1065.jpeg)
I’m a proud, card-carrying member of Generation X.
One of the requirements of being in our union is being an avid fan of music from the 80s and 90s.
I will go to my deathbed (and beyond) never wavering that we Gen Xers have the best music. Having the best array of one-hit wonders is an added bonus, as well.
During the heyday of those musical wonder days, I didn’t attend concerts of the bands I loved the most for two main reasons.
I didn’t have the money. Concerts for top acts have never been cheap no matter what decade we were in.
My parents were assholes about concerts. Neither one would abide their two sons going to concerts. Too many bad influences. The Devil was everywhere! I even missed out on so many laser-light shows with Def Leppard, Poison, and so many others. Sigh. I’m still bitter.
Now that I’m well into adulthood, I’ve attended many concerts I couldn’t see back in the day.
It’s been awesome. Along with varying degrees of depression.
Below is a synopsis of some concerts my wife and I attended from pre-Covid to this fall.
Motley Crue (Alice Cooper opening act)
Alice Cooper cracked me up because the dude looked exactly the same as he did back in the day.
I remember thinking as I saw him on stage that it’s probably a good thing he looked like shit in the 80s. He legit looked like the same gaunt-faced, wrinkled raisin with smeared guy-liner he did thirty years earlier. Even down to the riding crop.
But, hey, not aging is not aging.
Motley Crue has not aged as gracefully, mentally or physically, I’m sad to say.
Vince Neil is nowhere close to the slender rock god he once was. He was rocking the dad bod proudly and I’m all for that shit. I wish he would rethink his hair, though. It’s just not working anymore, dude.
Sadly, Nikki Sixx’s decline is more mental than physical. Dude gave the most incomprehensible speech I’ve ever heard this side of Donald Trump, and I’ve taught middle school for 25 years. I’ve heard more nonsensical bullshit than you can possibly imagine.
Even worse, Nikki was convinced he was being deep and meaningful. He hunkered down on one knee, brushed his hair back with bitchin’ flair, looked the audience dead on, and said…I still don’t have a fucking clue.
There was something about truth and peeling back the skin from your forearm (like the Terminator?) and staring at the bone marrow and other supposedly deep advice. It was mystifying and concerning. I hope one of their roadies has a degree in psychology.
On the plus side, they still brought the music as always. Tommy Lee was drumming like a badass while his kit traveled on rails along the ceiling. The lights and smoke were electric. (Though, a large percentage of the smoke was from weed.)
Overall, it was a fun, albeit concerning, concert.
Bon Jovi (no opening act)
This was one of the best concerts we’ve ever attended. Three-plus hours. No opening act. Just Bon Jovi being Bon Jovi.
Over three decades in the business and they’re still rocking in the free world.
It was stellar. Enough said.
U2–Joshua Tree 30th Anniversary Tour (Mumford and Sons opening act)
This was simply badass. So, so good.
Once U2 got going, I was only mildly disturbed that it had been thirty years since that masterpiece album dropped.
I barely remember anything of the Mumford and Sons set. I’m sure they were just fine. But, Bono and the boys just took the place over.
A massive screen behind them showed videos, lyrics, even a poem from Carl Sandburg. It was goose-bump-inducing good all night.
One of the most memorable (and depressing) moments had nothing to do with the actual concert. I proudly wore my concert T-shirt to school the next day. The following teacher/student interaction happened just before first period.
“Mr. Uppendahl, what’s that T-shirt?”
Puffing out my chest, “U2!”
Puzzled expression on the student, “YouTube?”
Exasperated sigh from me, “No. U. (dramatic pause) 2.”
“Are they a band.”
Speaking through a hand covering my face as I hang my head, “Yes.”
“Are they old?”
“Get out of my class.”
Damn kids have no respect for greatness.
Journey (Steve Miller Band opening act)
This was an outdoor venue on a grassy hill with chairs on the flat area in front of the stage. It was pre-Covid, so it was crowded as hell.
Two distinct memories of this one.
It was the first time I’ve seen Journey sans Steve Perry. Their Filipino singer (Arnel Pineda) is very good and sounds so much like Perry. I was impressed how good their classics still sounded.
The second memory is far more disturbing.
There was a woman who seemed to be on some kind of hallucinogenic narcotic. She was swaying from one side to the other, then would have jerking movements back and forth, all while dressed for a Vegas street corner.
This was before the concert, by the way. There was no music to sway to.
Another woman took umbrage at something the dancer said, did, maybe she stepped on something, I have no idea.
Words were hotly exchanged. Then, as if someone rang a bell at ringside, it was on.
An epic cat fight with hair pulled, exclamations of fuck you! and bitch! were dropping like bombs from above. They both had finger nails like Freddy Krueger. I kept waiting for one or both to end up looking like Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon.
We were on a slanted grassy hill. Both women were in high heels. There were murmurs among the throng of concert goers that one or both would break an ankle and go tumbling down to the seated area like snowballs down a mountain side. Never happened, though.
After finishing their beers and exchanging a hearty fist bump, their men finally decided to break it up.
I’m guessing that tussle is on YouTube somewhere. Or Pornhub.
Def Leppard (Tesla and REO Speedwagon opening acts)
Def Leppard were always one of my favorites. I didn’t care one shit about Tesla. Aside from “Signs”, I knew little about them.
REO Speedwagon were fine. But, the lead singer liked to tell us all how awesome he is, and what an epic songwriter he is. I get it, dude. You’re good. Let’s move on. Aside from that, it was fun hearing their classics.
Def Leppard was bringing it. I had always wanted to see them during my youth and it never happened. They were great. Joe Elliott is still looking good. Though, his long hair is no longer blonde. He’s rocking the silver locks loud and proud. And I say bully for him.
The rest of the band is significantly more wrinkled than those glory days, but none seemed the worse for wear.
Their music was still rocking and that’s all that really matters. (Though, it was fun when Elliott pointed out a rather large stagnant cloud of weed smoke and mentioned they were probably having more fun than anyone.)
Rick Springfield (The Hooters, Tommy Tutone opening acts)
This was the first concert where I was more interested in an opening act than the headliner. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of Springfield. But, I’ve been a die-hard fan of The Hooters for decades.
Tommy Tutone was fun and the lead singer is not young at all. But, he’s still bringing it (kinda). I’m pretty sure after we all belted the most famous phone number ever (867–5309), he hit the hotel and went to sleep immediately.
The Hooters were great. They’ve been a fun, under-appreciated band their entire career. Many people don’t realize they wrote songs for Cindy Lauper (“Time After Time”) and were nominated for a Song of the Year Grammy for writing “One of Us” for Joan Osborne. They have writing credits for many other stars, as well. Look it up. It’s impressive.
Rick Springfield is not human.
That dude is 74 and took off his shirt for the last several songs. Doing so pissed off every single middle-aged real man with a dad bod in the audience. Springfield is still ripped. Not cool to flaunt it, Rick. At all. Oh, and fuck off.
Bryan Adams (Joan Jett opening act)
I almost saw Adams in college for his Waking Up the Neighbours tour. But, I was shit out of money and couldn’t make it happen. My wife and I bought tickets to see Adams open for Bon Jovi for June 2020. Stupid Covid ruined that.
But, the moment finally came this past fall. We saw him and the still bad ass Joan Jett with her Blackhearts band.
Jett is amazing. She is 65 and still bringing it with that sexy gravely voice and ‘tude. You go, Joan. Her set was an hour plus and so damn good.
Adams is also in his mid-60s and looking way too good, as well. His music is still the same. Awesome. His similarly gravely voice is still the same, too.
Whew. That’s enough for now.
My wife and I plan to keep on keeping on attending concerts of stars from our younger, slimmer days. Lord knows the bands from the 80s and 90s will keep touring as long as saps like us keep putting down our Visas to see them.
Rock on!
Steve is a sarcastic teacher and writer in Washington state. He writes about feminism, sports, and anything that annoys or excites him.