I have my parents to thank for my eclectic taste in music. Growing up, my brother and I looked on as our mom adjusted the needle on the record just-so to play Bob Marley’s Coming in From the Cold on the nights when work kept her husband out late. On road trips, my dad would pop in the worn Brother’s in Arms cassette by Dire Straits and we took turns singing along to “Walk of Life.” When my cousins visited, Michael Jackson’s Thriller would play at loud volumes and my mom and aunt laughed at the moonwalking we did on the creaky floorboards of the old apartment.
In those early days of the 80s, I was exposed to the Beatles, Janis, Hendrix, Creedence, Moody Blues, Fleetwood, Ray, and Supertramp (their Breakfast in America album remains one of my all-time favorites).
The other day I was reminded of the many greats I never had the chance to see in my lifetime (all four members of the Beatles, Bob Marley, Michael Jackson, James Brown, and Amy Winehouse, to name a few). And let’s face it: there are quite a few musicians whose health worries me and personal problems could mean the end of touring forever.
With summer just around the corner, I really want to purchase some more tickets. So far it’s just Phish and Old Crow Medicine Show. Sadly, Florence and the Machine sold out in minutes flat, a show I really would have loved to see. And so, without further adieu, the ones I need to shake my tailfeather to, before they (or I) kick the proverbial bucket.
* Prince. I dunno what it is. His magnetic stage presence. His lyrical masterpieces. Or the enigma that follows this pop icon turned strange symbol. But I must see him. Maybe because the only live version of “Purple Rain” I’ve ever seen was accompanied by a vacuum solo (see: Phish).
* Rolling Stones. One of these members is sure to kick the bucket and then another will smoke the ashes of the bucket kicker, but before any of this happens, I must get in there. But not at the price tag their tickets are selling for now. Hit me up if you have a connection, ya’ll.
* Paul Simon. Okay, so maybe he’s not in danger of imminent death, but one just never knows these days. Also Graceland and Rhythm of the Saints are two albums I’d love to take with me if I were ever stranded on a desert island.
* Jimmy Cliff. Just because he’s the man. I think I’ll have the chance to see him this summer when he plays in Brooklyn.
* Aerosmith. I still find Steven Tyler sexy. Not enough to watch American Idol, but he’s always exuded a certain kind of charm for me. This is a show I’d have to take my mom to. Apparently she also has a major crush on the man who dresses his microphones up with scarves. Not weird at all, right?
I’m sure there are others, but my brain is partially fried. If you had to make a musical bucket list, who would you choose?