Twelves Part Eight - Concerts

I don't go to that many concerts, especially these days, but I try to make it when an essential artist (especially one from another twelve) rolls into town. There's a few international behemoths in the list along with the usual obscurities. Random memories from The Arena: I joined a conga line that wound its way through the Arena for They Might Be Giants, also the band playing 'spin the dial' where they improvise to whatever they find playing on local radio. Watching Regurgitator play one of their first gigs with their new drummer while sipping beers behind the sound desk next to their old drummer.

We were literally at the stage for Peter Gabriel's concert, with our arms resting on the stage itself. I shook the man's hand and my eyes almost popped out of my head. The 1995 REM show was better musically (they still had Bill Berry and they weren't flogging a shithouse record), but we had the most horrendous seats. Word of warning: never let someone else organise tickets for you.

Radiohead created more goosebumps than any other show I've ever seen. I thought I was going to cry at one point. In fact, I may have.

I've seen the Augies more than a few times, but Eumundi was a special show. They played fan favourites to a tiny room where we practically eyeballed the band.

Oh, and I deliberately injured a crowd surfer at Festival Hall in 1997. Advice to future crowd surfers: avoid six-foot-plus-blokes with a crazy look in their eyes.

  • Peter Gabriel (Brisbane EC, 1994)
  • REM (Brisbane EC, 1995, 2005)
  • Radiohead (Sydney EC, 2005)
  • Regurgitator (The Arena, 1999)
  • Ratcat/The Clouds (Brisbane, 1991)
  • Augie March (Eumundi, 2009)
  • Eels (with Strings, Tivoli, 2005)
  • Ben Folds Five (Festival Hall, 1997)
  • U2 (Brisbane, 2004)
  • Custard, The Sharp (RNA Showgrounds, 1993)
  • They Might Be Giants (The Arena, 1995, 2001)
  • Powderfinger (The Arena, 2004)

You'll notice there are no festival gigs here and for good reason. Going into debt to pay for overpriced tickets for the privilege of standing in either scorching heat or pissing rain to see one or two bands you like amid thirty-eight warty rejects doesn't sound like a great way to spend my time. But I guess that could be just me.