I'd like to do this in two anachronistic parts: First, I'll review the Oakland 8/15 show, and I'll write about the Acoustic Guitar Festival performances of John Jorgenson and Davey Johnstone. Second, I'd like to include a personal section which shows how these relate specifically to me, combining to form what was most certainly the greatest day of my life. Thus this SPOILER will be in two sections; namely, a technical section with two reviews, and a personal section tying them together.
Although my view of this show is highly biased (more about that in part 2), it seemed in most respects superior to the Sacramento show two days earlier. The set list was the same: Circle of Life, Grey Seal, GBYBR, Honky Cat, Tiny Dancer, Levon, IGTWTCITB, IDWGOWYLT, DLTSGDOM, Daniel, Rocket Man, Roy Rogers, Crocodile Rock, Your Song, Mona Lisas part I, Philadelphia Freedom, Simple Life, The One, Sad Songs, [intro band], SATWYLT, Teenage Idol, The Bitch is Back, Saturday Night, encore 1: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, Great Balls of Fire, encore 2: Bennie and the Jets. Still, the two weakest songs of the show (Roy Rogers and Teenage Idol) were both much better than the previous time. He took each a little bit faster, as he did with most of the songs in the show. There was one song (I don't remember but I'm going to gamble and say Simple Life, although it could've been any rocker) when mid-way the tempo got noticably faster.
Lighting also looked better, although that may have been due to my improved seats. Certainly the lighting hiccup at the start, where circles of light (not "life") got stuck on the audience members sitting in the upper balcony section adjacent to stage left. Right away in the show I noticed much better camera work, with better fades, more interesting shots, etc. Also, Jack (the new drummer; Davey said he's been touring with them only a week) got much more into it in Oakland. He clearly is becoming more adjusted to his new role onstage.
Elton's outfits were also better, starting off in a black suit with thin silver (rhinestone, maybe?) chains hanging from the shoulders and arms. Clear granny spec took the place of shades from Sacramento. He returned for the last encore wearing a black shirt, neon green jacket with big crosses of gold (I saw it as he flew between my reason), yellow (?) knee-length shorts, and the same glasses as on the MIE cover.
The crowd in the upper sections seemed pretty dead, with little or no people clapping or dancing. I noticed increased involvement towards the end of the show; intuition tells me that was due more to more audience alcohol consumption rather than genuine desire to have fun. The floor was getting into it, and the front section was constantly up at the stage getting the attention of Elton, who was all smiles. Again, he was signing autographs, shaking hands, playing under the piano, and just generally having fun with the audience.
John and Davey arrived at 10am, doing sound check until 11, when they started their show. They were constantly exchanging guitars with the roadies, and it was very impressive watching these two make so many different instruments sing. It was also really interesting to hear Davey and John talk, giving background information and stories about some of their songs. They ran straight through their album Crop Circles, finishing a little after twelve. Davey left after that, but John stuck around for a gipsy-jazz-swing set. It was scheduled to start at one, but actually was a little later than that, so he ran until about 2:25 or 2:30. He played guitar with piano backing by Jim Cox, and later he brought out his very talented friend, Ramon (sp?) to accompnay him on guitar. John played some selections from his solo album (After You've Gone), as well as Mabel, a song by famous gipsy guitarist Django Rheinhardt (who, as many of you will recall, also wrote Bluesology). After he finished, John was kind enough to stay backstage long enough to sign autographs and talk with fans.
It's 9:45am. I step out of the car and walk towards the large building. I stand outside it for a minute and take a deep breath -- my head is still spinning from the whirlwind of the past few days. I can't believe that only a month ago I got my concert tickets; it feels like centuries, I've been waiting so long. Just three months ago I was at Elton's Boston show, thinking it would be the last one I'd see in... who knew how long? Suddenly, here I am, it's Saturday. I'm at the Thursday night show, all the way across the country from Boston in Sacramento, CA. I'd be in Oakland tonight. And if that weren't enough, the past few days I'd been conversing (albeit via email) with the almighty John Jorgenson. Which is how I got here, the Acoustic Guitar Festival in San Rafael. I take a deep breath, drawing courage from my black Elton John t-shirt from the Boston show and a sign by the door of the building, saying "Playing today, John Jorgenson."
There's not much to see inside; just some tables with leaflets about guitars, stuff like that. I look through the double doors into the auditorium, not very large, and see the empty stage. There wasn't anything going on in here, and no one would be playing here for an hour. Might as well go back outside.
So I go outside, around the edge of the building, through weeds, until I'm behind the building on its right hand side. To my left is a ramp, leading into the back door, with a white van parked next to it. Something yellow about six feet in the air catches my eye, and it takes me several seconds before, through the massive amounts of roadies lugging things, I recognize Davey Johnstone walking up the ramp. I stand there, breathless, less than ten feet from a man I've just about equated with a diety. He stops when he sees me, staring straight at him, then smiles, says "Nice shirt," waves, and walks inside. Melt! I'm still reeling but some part of me actually gets the nerve to walk closer, landing me at the base of the ramp just as a roadie hands something to a guy with shoulder length fluffy hair. "Here John," the roadie says. Again, I stare in amazement, but I find the words: "Is it really you? John Jorgenson?" Then I stick my hand out and introduce myself, and he shakes my hand. He talks to me for a few seconds before he says he has to go in for sound check, and I drop back in wonder. My heart is pounding, my head is spinning. I touched greatness!
Back around to the front of the building and inside, I wait in the lobby by the long tables. One door leading to the auditorium is open, and I ask a roadie if I can go inside. I try not to be heartbroken when he says no, so I wait just outside the door in case he changes his mind. I'm in luck, he does, and a few minutes later I'm the only person in the audience, sitting in the back row as Davey and John warm up. Occasionally one of them looks up and sort of acknowledges my presence, at which point I just about melt inside. I try to sit as still as possible so that there would be no reason to bother with kicking me out, and no one does. After they're done and they go backstage, I get up and thank the guy for who let me in.
I leave to buy a ticket for the actual show, and outside I run into someone wearing an EJ t-shirt from 1995. I talk to her, and eventually learn she's Jennifer Dobres, fellow Rower who'll be attending the show that night (in section 13, seats far better than my section 202). Jen is there with her mom and their friend Bob, and after buying our tickets to see Davey and John, we all go back and wait for the performace to start. Jen and I sit in the front row, and I listen while she tells me all about the Expo in LA. We're still talking Elton when John and Davey come onstage, and when they sit down and see us in the front row, dead center, with our similar black EJ shirts, Davey smiles and says "Nice shirts." Melt again! He and John run through their entire album (see spoiler, part I). At one point, they mention the producer of their album, Guy Babylon, our beloved keyboardist. Jen lets out a cheer and I clap, and it dawns on us suddenly that we're the only people who did that. We turn red and feel like dorks. They finish, and Jen and I wait out back for a little while in case Davey shows up. Eventually we give up; she goes to get food and I go around and back inside to buy the Davey / John album.
Just as I'm coming out, admiring my new purchase, I see a tall blond dude dressed all in white standing very casually on the sidewalk and eating a sandwich. Holy God, I think to myself, Davey! Without really thinking I walk right up to him and say hi. Right away he smiles, says "Hi, I'm Davey," as if he's just the guy next door. He sticks out his right hand, then pulls it back when he realizes it has sandwich crumbs on it. "Oops, sorry," he mumbles, wipes his hand on the side of his pants, then once again extends it for me to shake. Geez, I didn't mind, I think to myself. My God, you're Davey Johnstone, you can do whatever you want. I barely managed to get out my name. Funny, a conversation I'd rehearsed for years in the unlikely event that we ever met, and here I was totally speechless. I mumble something about what a thrill it was to meet him, then kick myself inside for being lame. He asks me if I was going to the concert that night. Finally, I regain some command of the English language and tell him yes, how it's show number five, I can't wait, Sacramento was awesome, etc. We talk about all sorts of stuff, and I remembered to ask him about drummers. "The drummer ..uh.. Jack? ..how long has he been on tour with you guys?" Davey says he'd been there about a week. Whew, I sigh. I'm not going crazy. "I thought he was different. I could've sworn it was Charlie Morgan I saw in Boston, but then I just wasn't sure. I'm glad I'm not going nuts..." He interrupts me --
"You were in Boston?"
"Yeah, three months ago today. It was the one where Elton played Blue Eyes."
"What were you doing in Boston?"
So I tell him I go to school there, he asks which school, how I like it, things like that. I can't believe it.
Then, he says, "You know, you're really great." What? I think to myself. "You fans, you really are great." He goes on and on about how great Regheads are. It was at this moment that I realize, more than anything, that the very best thing about the English language is that we have no single word for "you all" or "you guys". The second person ("you") is the same, singular or plural. And the result of this is Davey Johnstone, Rock God, standing there and saying, "I think you're great" to me, when he's actually referring to the collective of Elton's fans.
I ask if he's sticking around, he says no, he's waiting his ride to show up. "Would it be too much... is it too rude... would you mind... uh, autograph?" I stammer as I dig a pen out of my pocket. Stupid! And I forgot paper. Fishing further, I find my ticket stubs from Thursday night. He says sure, but that I have to hold his sandwich. I can't help smiling as I'm standing there, the noontime sun beating down on me in my black shirt, my heart pounding as I watch him sign both ticket stubs while I'm numbly holding his sandwich. He finishes, we trade ticket stubs, pen, and sandwich, and he ducks back inside only to reappear a minute later. A roadie comes up and talks to him, while I'm still standing about two feet away, clutching the autographs and my now-magical pen which Davey had used. A white van -- the same one I saw that morning, I reason -- pulls up and Davey motions toward it. Before he walks to it he turns to me one more time, and we exchange thank yous. "Enjoy the show tonight," he says warmly. "I will..." I smile, "...and Davey.... Shine The Light." He grins and answers, "We will." I watch him get into the van, and follow it with my eyes until it's around the corner and out of sight. I can hardly breathe.
Back inside, I wait for John's show to start. Jen and company return from wherever, and I excitedly relate my story to them. Jen and I take our seats, front row dead center, and eventually John comes out onstage. He runs through his set (see spoiler, part I). Already I'm recovering (my soul?) from the thrill of meeting Davey; now going backstage afterward to meet John almost seems like no big deal. As I'm walking back there, I think back to that morning when it seemed so huge just to be waiting outside the door. And as I'm standing right next to John, impatiently waiting for him to sign autographs, I think again back to that morning when it was so amazing just to catch a glimpse of him, shake his hand, converse for a few seconds. Suddenly he's done, he turns to me, and I hand him the ticket stubs that Davey already signed. He autographs them under Davey's signature, then spots the two CDs in my hand (Davey and John, and John solo) and asks me if I want him to sign them, too. I shrug calmly and say "Sure," like suddenly it's no big deal. He personalizes them, I shake his hand and thank him, and just like that I'm gone.
Five hours later, I'm in Oakland. My seats are depressingly far back, on the upper level. They probably wouldn't have seemed so bad, except that sitting so close to Davey that morning, so close that I could touch him made me realize how far away my seats really were. So, to avoid being in the nosebleed section, I'm down on the floor risers visiting Jen. Her friend comes up, and shyly acknowldges that he has a front row ticket. I actually get to hold it briefly, but I give it back before I get too attached. I remind myself how incredibly lucky I was to get any ticket at all, even if it was grossly overpriced and far from the stage. We're talking, he has his old license plate with him ("YORSONG"), and I'm spacing out and admiring it when he turns to Jen and says, "Because I knew you liked Elton John so much, I got an extra ticket..." and he pulls and extra front row seat ticket from his pocket and hands it to her. Naturally she flips out, and she just about gets away before I stop her and say, "Jen, since you're sitting up front now, can I have your old seat?" She nods, handing me her old ticket stub, bursting with excitement. I wish her a good time and send up a quick and silent prayer, thanking Providence for my streak of good fortune.
The show starts, and I'm immediately struck by how far back we still seem, even though I'm infinitely closer than I would've been in my old seat. Part way through the show, Bob, a friend of Jen and her mom and (who was there too at the Festival earlier that day), trades seats with me so I can be up a little closer. I spot two empty seats on the other side of a security guard and Jen's mom and I form a plan to grab the seats when the lights are out before the first encore -- but our plan falls through when someone else gets there first. I'm still psyched -- I'm with good people, and down near the floor where we are the crowd is getting into it. Every now and then I look up at the motionless crowd by my old seats, and again thank my insanely good fortune. Down here I can (bite my lip?) get up and dance to every rocker, and I take full advantage of this: Grey Seal, Honky Cat, IDWGOWYLT, Croc Rock, etc. Jumping around like a madman (ATW?) song after song after song makes me very tired, but helps me appreciate the stamina of Elton and the band. My throat is dry from screaming, and my voice is still shot from Thursday night, but I sing along anyway. This has been the best day of my life, and I'm not ready to quit. Energy comes back when he starts Philly Freedom. I freak out, remembering my trademark signature and my last words to Davey. I'm jumping all over the place, and on each drawn out "Shine the Light," I pop open my lighter and hold the flame as high in the air as I can reach. I'm about to fall over when the song is done, just from jumping around so much. Every time I think my arms are going to fall off from over-the-head clapping to Simple Life, I hear Elton roar "And I won't break...", and the adrenaline comes pumping back. Still, I'm relieved when the song is over and he launches into The One, giving me a chance to sit down and catch my breath. I watch a couple slow dancing in the aisle to The One, and I think about how beautiful that is, how that was really the only missing thing from my day, was that I had no one there to share it with. I forget it briefly with Sad Songs, and then when Elton introduces the band.
John is first, and I open up my vocal chords and pour on everything I have. My voice, though not particularly tuneful, is certainly very loud since I've been a crew coxswain for three years. Some people around me stare, but what do I care? They didn't get to meet him this morning. I realize I'll have nothing left for Davey, so I grab a mostly empty cup from nearby, owner unidentified, and douse my throat with watery diet coke. Nasty, but it does the trick. "One, two, three..." we say in unison, then "DAVEY!!!" as he's introduced. I don't know if he heard us, but everyone else did.
We got ready at the end to make a mad dash for the front as soon as the lights went out, but were stopped by Security. Jen's mom tried to sweet talk, but it was no good. Elton comes back on, signing autographs and such. Bob says he has an idea. We go back to our seats, one row from the floor. He hoists me up on the count of three over the seats in front of us, and I sneak onto the floor with Security Guard Number One seeing me. Elton starts cranking out Lucy and I realize I'm in the pot-smoking section of the arena, remembering that smoking marijuana is legal in Oakland (but in the arena?). All throughout Lucy I'm moving up closer and closer, nodding to people and begging them with my eyes not to rat me out. No one does, and one or two people even protect me from Security. At one point I get too bold and Security Guard Number Two pushes me way back... I have to work faster now to make up lost ground. Great Balls of Fire Comes on and I get desperate -- I want so much to make in into the front. I figure, it's the end of the show, they can't kick me out. Everyone is standing, and Security # 2 is giving me the Death Stare. For just a minute he is distracted by someone smoking pot, and I make a run for it -- not straight up past him; he'd be expecting that. Instead, I jump onto one of the folding chairs of the floor seats, and start running laterally across them -- ducking down -- to make it far enough so I can move forward without him seeing me. Once again, fortune is with me; no one rats me out. I move up the center aisle, there! I did it -- I'm in the front section! The lights go out again and I know there's only one more song left. I make another mad dash, again, laterally, back to the side (stage right). Security is too tight in the middle, but there's no one after evil Security # 2, and I'm already past him... I make it across -- I'm closer now to Elton than I was to Davey when he was doing sound check thirteen hours earlier -- and I'm just in time for Bennie and the Jets. Wow! Too bad I'm so short I actually can't see very much, espcially when Elton is going under the piano.
The song began to near its end, and I know the show was almost over. I take a deep breath as if that would help me retain more of my surroundings. At the very end of the song, I guess I'm jumping a little too high, because evil Security # 2 spots me. He's pretty mad, and orders me back, but I know I have less than a minute left, and stand my ground. Elton says one last goodbye, I scream and clap and ignore Security # 2, and the lights go out. Security grabs me and pushes me back, back... I don't care. The show's over. I won, and he knows it. I outsmarted him to get up to the front, even if it wasn't for very long. And now it didn't matter anymore. He gives up and lets me go. Jen's mom comes up and finds me, saying she has permission to go up front. "I'm with you," I say. Security # 2 stops us. She talks to him, just as the house lights go on. He gives way, I smirk again and walk past him.
Thank you for letting me share this with you -- the best day of my life. I know it's something that only my fellow EJ fans can appreciate fully.
Much luck to you all getting to shows and getting good seats. I hope all of you will be "Blessed".
Shine The Light, (!) --Kristy "There's far too much to take in here..."
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