Tin Cup Gypsy

Every now and then something comes along that breaks out the child from shell of the jaded musician I am. Something that restores my faith in commercial music – something that makes me forget that I play music for a job and reminds me that I make music because I’m in LOVE with it. That something hit hard last Monday night and was unrelenting. The bullet I’m referring to is MUSE. They performed at Bridgestone Arena in Nashville and Jordan, Tyler, and I made the last minute decision to head downtown and see if we could pick up some scalper tickets for the sold out show. Going in to any concert I always feel like I’m skeptical – maybe skeptical that I’m going to get my hopes up and then be let down by a misfire in one of the key elements “is it all flash and no substance?” “is it all substance and no entertainment?” or “is it both flash and substance but poorly executed musicianship?” So, naturally, I was somewhat worried that my studio heroes were going to fall short of delivering a live performance that captured that “thing” they have done so well for several albums. From the second the lights went down, they delivered the best show I have ever seen. When I say they were unrelenting, it’s a gross understatement. It was 90 minutes of rock and roll. 90 Minutes of flash, substance, and musicianship that made me want to sell my guitars and become a banker. 90 minutes after which you just sit down, ears bleeding, sweaty, trying to seal in the memory before you resume life back in reality. When your dad gets that sparkle in his eye reminiscing about seeing Floyd live back in…whenever – this was that show – that show that you will reminisce to your kids about and they’ll think “Dad is crazy” but secretly they’ll wish they had a band they could care that much about…