I remember the sunlike intensity of the giant, lit-up KISS letters on the stage caused me to look away, even though I didn’t want to. And when I blinked, the letters remained burned into the insides of my eyelids. I can still recall the musty smell and taste of twenty thousand people—the smoke and the sweat—on that muggy night. The volume of the band was sometimes dwarfed by that of the crowd, and my chest rumbled. I felt simultaneously overwhelmed, frightened, and ecstatic.
That’s what I wrote in my memoir, My Life in the Sunshine about seeing Kiss at Madison Square Garden when I was seven years old—my first ever arena concert. Since then, I’ve seen thousands of bands in venues ranging from dank house basements to sweaty clubs to now much more antiseptic arenas. But I’ve seen very few shows in stadiums—the elite spaces that dwarf arenas. Big music festivals like Lollapalooza, Coachella and Glastonbury draw 100,000 or more people—sometimes over multiple days—but it’s not the same as a stadium show, where tens of thousands gather to see one artist at the same time, and where the expectation of that artist is therefore commensurate with the ticket price.
My first stadium show was The Rolling Stones at Seattle’s Kingdome back in the late ‘90s (Third Eye Blind opening the show is my timestamp). Years later, I was fortunate to hear Adele’s voice completely fill London’s Wembley Stadium during the final show of her 21 tour. I’ve seen two bombastic, modern era Guns N’ Roses stadium shows, three next level Taylor Swift shows, and I still kick myself for missing Beyonce. I think that’s probably it, until last week when I saw Foo Fighters at London Stadium.
It’s not easy to entertain a stadium full of people, and it’s harder to do so without elaborate production, set changes, and pyro (OK, there was a spectacular fireworks display at the end of the show). Over three decades, I've seen Foo Fighters evolve, and whether it’s four, five, or six people on stage, one thing remains constant: their pure, unadulterated love for playing music together. They often play for three hours, and whether in a club or a stadium, they always appear to be loving every minute of it. They could get away with a lot less, but they never do.
One of my favorite parts of the London show—and pretty much every show I see—is that magical moment at when the lights go down, the band walks on stage, and the crowd holds its collective breath in anticipation of the opening notes. Scattered guitar skronks and drum hits only heighten the suspense, and I often wish I could freeze that moment and live in it for just a bit longer. Yes, I also love it when the band actually plays, but there’s nothing more exciting than the anxious collective consciousness when a band is about to play. I felt it at that Kiss show in 1979, I felt it last week in London, and I hope to feel it over and over again, forever.
Speaking of Foo Fighters, their bassist, Nate Mendel is this week’s guest on my new podcast, Identified. Soon after I graduated from college, I became obsessed with Nate’s Seattle band, Sunny Day Real Estate, and I’ve had a great time watching him play bass in Foo Fighters for the past three decades. In our conversation, Nate opens up about his childhood as one of four siblings, none of whom shared the same two parents. He discusses his unique friendship with his longtime bandmate, the late Taylor Hawkins, and the familial nature of his band.
Last week’s guest was KCRW host, Novena Carmel, one of the first people I thought of when Identified began to take shape. We both have larger than life musician fathers—hers is Sly Stone—and I had a great time chatting with Novena about music and family last fall in Los Angeles.
The first five episodes of Identified are live now and a new episode will drop every Thursday for the foreseeable future. Identified is available on all major podcast platforms, 100% free and ad-free. You can watch short video clips on YouTube and Instagram.
I hope you’ll give Identified a listen and share it with others who might enjoy it
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My memoir is called My Life in the Sunshine. You can order it here, or listen to the audiobook on Spotify.
I hope to see you somewhere soon. Upcoming events are always listed here.
Nabil Ayers / Brooklyn