We're gonna party like it's... really Prince up there (and we don't care who sees us!)

If you could "symbol" yourself,
what would you be?

"Brothers and sisters, we're here today
to get through this blog called life..."

This past Friday, Chastephen went to the House of Blues in Dallas to see a tribute band called "1999."  Yes, this is a reference to Prince:  everyone's favorite 5'2" artist (without the heels) who was formerly known as a symbol who was formerly known only as "Prince," formerly born as Prince Rogers Nelson.

I can make fun: I am one...

The opening act was quite cheesy in that they sounded like a current college band playing originals that sounded like 80's b-sides while looking like they were heading to pick up some Mountain Dew for a weekend of D & D or WoW.  We were sitting in the back of the venue and the sound wasn't so good at first, but I think they said they were from Chapel Hill (thus influencing my idea that they were a college band). 

House of Blues doesn't sell draft beer, only 24oz. cans - at $9 each.  That's probably the real reason they call it the House of Blues (nothing to do with music, just the prices).  However, our waitress was quite busty and very nice to boot.  And, as if to make up for the overpriced beverages, she placed the credit card (given to her for the tab) into her cleavage for safe keeping.  My friends and I all found this quite amusing, albeit highly non-hygenic. 

This is Tripping Billies, the Dave Matthews cover band. 

They neither look like Dave Matthews nor Prince and the

Revolution.  I feel cheated.  Twice now

As I nursed my $9 beer, I had plenty of time to wonder just how a college band gets hooked up and tours with a Prince tribute band?  Maybe it was because the singer of the opening group kind of looked like Prince, except that he wore some long dreds.  Towards the middle of their set, Chas and I walked down by the front of the stage.  There were probably about 200 or 300 people there.  Not bad for a tribute band, I thought.  But what do I know; I've been out of music for a few years.  The last tribute band I saw was (ashamedly) a Dave Matthews cover band - and they had a ton of people come out for that show.  I can't stand Dave Matthews and remember thinking "how in the world does a cover band for Dave Matthews draw such a big crowd?"  I suppose if you close your eyes...  At the time, I just wrote off my state of flabbergastonomy (yes, I made that up.  Feel free to quote me, but if you make money at it, I better get some)  as petty, semi-professional jealousy.  Anyway, I am still contributing to the economy of cover songs.  I testify however, that I am not a lemming because I no longer care.  That's a benefit of age, kids...  Alas, I digress.

Chas' weren't
purple, though.

The people-watching was fantastic.  The population of concert attendees included several generations and ran the gambit on race, sexual orientation and clothing styles.  Speaking of clothes, I do admit that I was surprised that I neither saw someone dressed up in a purple matador suit nor a day-glo bustier.  I do admit that I saw more than my share of teased hair and animal prints.  For the occasion, Chas even sported her Bon Jovi boots.

So the sound in the general admission "pit" in front of the stage was very loud, but much higher quality.  The mix was good and the bass and kick drum hit you right in the chest.  Interwoven with the backbeat, the singer/guitarist's riffs cut through quite proficiently and soulfully.  The improved sound definitely did the band justice and improved my enjoyment of their show. 

Simple Minds kicks ass;
ergo, so does Kesha.

One of their closing songs was a cover of "Tik Tok" by Kesha.  An overwhelming majority of the girls in the house erupted with applause and proceeded to gyrate their booties while singing "Whoa, whoa oho,"  with each chorus.  As if it were coreographed and rehearsed before they all came out tonight, when the participating ladies (and some of the guys) sang the line:  "Boys try to touch my junk," they all pointed to their booties, raised an eyebrow and repeated "Junk."  While predictable, it was still amusing and impressive having seen it in real life.

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You can get fake sleeves at
tinsleytransfers.com.

With the departure of the opening band, we regrouped with our friends and decided to claim a spot near the front of the stage for the headliner.  The words "General Admission" usually makes me cringe (I know, I'm getting older), but the crowd was as cool as it was eclectic.  Right on the stage in front of us was a mom and dad with their small son. Just behind them were two 50-somethings decked out in their party clothes and big hair.  Next to us, one large guy liked my shirt (a black T, with the name "McLovin" in white letters) and apparantly helped us bond on some level.  Throughout the night, he would randomly point to my chest and blurt out "McLovin!"  Since the frequency of his exclamations increased in direct proportion to the amount of beer this guy consumed, I could have found this annoying by the end of the night.  Instead, I decided it was best to smile real big and point back, sometimes saying "yeahhh!" or "heyyyy!"  The fact that the guy had sleeves (tatts) that looked homemade AND that he could have bench pressed my truck probably influenced my patience level...  Still, no harm was meant and we all had fun.

Rosanne Rosannadanna

Jeff Lynne

Peter Wolf

The tribute band finally come out, opening with a dead-on rendition of "Let's Go Crazy."  While not a mirror image of the Revolution, the band did a good job of not dressing like they are in the 21st century.  The backup singer was in spandex and had big, curly Roseanne Rosannadanna hair.  The drummer looked like Jeff Lynne of ELO and the bass player wore a shirt borrowed from Peter Wolf (sans the J. Geils Band).  I'm not sure what look the rhythm guitarist was going for, but hands down, he won the award for 70's porn star of the night.  Despite the rest of the band refusing to wear their rasberry berets, Not-the-Prince was in good purple form and the keyboard player wore scrubbs and a stethoscope.

70's porn star - get the look!

It only took about 10 seconds to figure out that the opening act was actually a few of the members of 1999 without their cover band clothes.  I thought this was a great strategy.  If you are in the crowd, you feel like you are getting two bands for your entertainment dollars.  If you are the band, you get to warm up and sound check all at once in front of a live audience.  On a side note, while Chastephen found it very obvious that the "two bands" were really the same, it didn't dawn on the 50-something's in front of us until about half way through the show.  One of them turned around after about 45 minutes and said "Hey, I think those are the same guys that played before!"  (It was funny, but having just reread this, I think you would have just had to be there.  See, this was the same woman who - all night long - would alternate between turning around and waving at her husband in the balcony section and then try to molest the poor 20-something kid that was next to her with his girlfriend.  Ouch.)

This is the press photo for 1999.  Not pictured:  70's porn star guitar player. 
Hey, is that Jack Black on the far right?

I think they played over an hour and a half and hit all 6 of the Prince songs I know.  Regardless on your opinions of Prince and his music, 1999 are excellent musicians and performers.  I haven't seen Prince perform live, but Chas says the real guy is outstanding.  She can comment on the performance herself if she wants, but I am sure she'll agree that even though they weren't the real thing, they were definitely worth the $15 a ticket we paid. Here are some shots from my blackberry:

We were both pretty pooped and the ride home was quiet.  It was a short week (with the Labor Day holiday and all), but for Chastephen, it seemed like it lasted 10 days instead of 4.  This show was a good way to unwind after the tough week and helped set a positive tone for the weekend.

The "real" Prince w/ band. 
Say what you will, but this just looks like it was a fun time...

This was a light-hearted outing that skirted the nostalgic.  The tickets were only $10 each with a $5 service charge.  Adding the cost of parking and the beverages, our cost for this outing is just under $100.  For $100: we heard a fairly good band; spent a fun evening with friends; and took in some good people watching.  We rate seeing 1999 at the House of Blues in Dallas three out of five paisley spades:  ♠♠♠