Tonight I went to the United Palace Theater in Washington Heights (around Broadway and 175th). This place is beautiful. Unfortunately, a pretty sucky venue to see a concert. Especially Iggy Pop.
I had high hopes for tonight. I'm not going to sit here and tell you I'm sooo punk and know every Stooges song (I know two- "Now I Wanna Be Your Dog" and the new "Killing Everyone"). Going to a show without knowing the songs always increases the risk of boredom, but I thought that fact wouldn't matter. I've seen Iggy perform once before and knew his show would be great nonetheless. When I saw that our seats were third balcony, row A, I was a little bit concerned about how much we'd be able to get into the show vibe, but figured it wouldn't be that big of a deal. WRONG.
Although my ticket suggested third balcony with it's own hang, it ended up being the rear section of the second and only balcony. We were so far back that my view of the front edge of the stage was blocked by the section in front of me. Unfortunately, this is where Iggy performed most of his time. So basically I spent 90% of the show watching the Stooges stand and play at instead of enjoying Iggy's spaz-outs that I was so looking forward to. I am not trying to discredit the rest of the band or anything, but honestly, they aren't why I shelled out $50.
Not helping matters, an extremely tall woman dressed in a long wool skirt, sweater, big Mary Janes, clutching a boxy purse stood right in front of me in the empty area between my row and the last row of the first section. As if her Nun-like wardrobe wasn't weird enough, her concert buddy was a Courtney Love lookalike. Anyway, security thankfully moved her and the other people who felt they were special enough to deserve their own standing section.
A couple of beers would have made everything more tolerable, but they were served in small 8oz cups that clocked in at $7 a pop. I just can't bring myself to pay that, so I settled for a couple sips of my friend's. Passing that single cup of beer around amongst ourselves made me feel like we were stranded on an island and only had one piece of food to survive on, so we better make the most of it. Silly. I knew we should have gone to the Happy Hour across the street.
The brief moments I did get to see Iggy and his tan ripped stomach bound about were glorious. Especially when he invited the crowd to come up and dance on stage. That was a total classic moment. As well as his pants completely dropping down at least twice.
Although I couldn't see, I certainly heard well enough (my ears are ringing like crazy). At least I got to hear the straight up dirty rock and roll I came for. I just wish I could have been down in front. Waah waah.
