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Herman Melville’s elusive white whale was Moby Dick; mine was Temple of the Dog–until last night, that is.
In the early nineties I was obsessed with MTV’s 120 minutes, a show that featured the latest in alternative rock, or as some my friends called it, “freak music.” I would stay up late to see the newest video releases, my only hope of staying ahead of the music scene. (It was much better than calling Peaches Records & Tapes to hear their weekly phone recording of new releases anyway.)
Last night seeing Temple of the Dog live–something I never thought I’d have an opportunity to do since I missed them back in their heyday–was absolutely a self-care activity that made my soul happy.
Tickets didn’t come easily (or cheaply), and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t slightly perturbed that Eddie didn’t at least make a cameo appearance. (I had all but convinced myself that he attended all the previous shows, too, but that the band had made the fans promise not to tell anyone.) But even without Eddie, I have to admit it was pretty fantastic.
At one point, Mike McCready was shredding so intensely that I thought to myself a pair of sawhorses might have come in handy to support the power equipment he was clearly operating. And while the group may have had only one album to pull songs from, they peppered in some other nice picks like Sabbath’s War Pigs, Mad Season’s River of Deceit, and even teased a little Floyd.
The nostalgia of it all made me forget for a few minutes that I’ll be 40 on my next birthday, and that I no longer have a curfew.
What is your white whale?