The Central Jersey Beat

Ever since I was a young boy one of life’s great pleasures has been browsing the bins of a record store. As much as I enjoy the convenience of a CD and find myself downloading more music these days, it’s still not the same as in the days of the record album. To go into a record store in the late 1960’s through the early 1980’s and thumb through stacks of new releases looking for something new and different was a big turn on. Back then an album cover was often a work of art. Although some covers were the equivalent of velvet paintings sold on street corners, many complemented if not transcended the music contained on that record inside. Think Cream’s Disraeli Gears, Big Brother and the Holding Company’s Cheap Thrills or The Rolling Stone’s Sticky Fingers to name just three.

As shallow as it sounds, I’ve bought a fair amount of records over the years simply because of the cover. Sex sells in the music business and I certainly wasn’t immune to the charms of a good-looking woman rocker not that there were boatloads of them plying their trade in the rock world in the days when records ruled. Would I have bought Linda Ronstadt’s Love Has No Pride if it weren’t for the cover? Being the music geek I was and knowing that she was once in the Stone Poneys, a band who had a Top 40 hit in 1967 with Monkee Michael Nesmith’s “Different Drum”, yeah I probably would have bought it anyway. I bought the first Blondie album because of the cover as I did with Lene Lovich’s first album who was much more my type than Deborah Harry ever was. I never bought that Blind Faith album—you know the one I’m talking about with that naked prepubescent girl holding that silver airplane until much later when I stumbled upon it at The Princeton Record Exchange. Then again I doubt I would have every found that album in the record department at Caldor or Korvettes.

In the late 1970’s and early 1980’s my album buying was buoyed by the Punk and New Wave movements as I bought albums by bands and acts whose looks didn’t always kill but were instead a lot more shrill a la The Ramones, Patti Smith, The Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Go Gos, Pearl Harbour and the Explosions, and Suzanne Fellini whose self-titled album, with the FM hit “Making Love on the Phone,” had one of those covers that just begged you to buy it.

Admittedly some of these were impulse buys with the album cover triggering something in my teenage brain that compelled me to plop down $6.99 without much thought and take it home with me. With that came the joy of discovery, particularly when the music was just as good if not better than the cover image that sold it.

Now that I’m older and wiser and presenting concerts at Concerts at the Crossing in Titusville, I’m still a sucker for that impulse buy except I’m buying talent instead of records. Looks sell even in the acoustic and alternative music worlds and when I received an e-mail about a booking agency’s latest signing—two 20-somethings called Dala, I had to stop, look, and listen.

Within an hour of receiving that e-mail I had booked this Canadian duo to play Concerts at the Crossing on January 16. Little did I know then that eight months later Dala would be the buzz of the acoustic music circuit. Word of mouth certainly helps as does good looks and gorgeous voices, which these two young women have. They also have the talent and the material to back it up.

Their appearance at last summer’s Newport Folk Festival is the stuff of legend. Performing on a Sunday morning at one of the Festival’s smaller stages where the up and coming artists perform, buzz quickly started circulating around the festival that these young women were something special. By the end of their set they had received two standing ovations, were invited by the festival organizer to do one song on the main stage in the afternoon in front of 10,000 people and walked out of Newport with the third most CD sales of any act there.

Unlike your average disposable Top 40 commercial radio act, there’s nothing manufactured and no pretense here. Just tremendous harmonies and an engaging stage presence. No wonder tickets are selling briskly and Concerts at the Crossing regulars and performers who have already seen them laud their talents from our stage and via e-mail to friends and fellow music lovers.

Sometimes it pays to be impulsive.  

http://concertsatthecrossing.com and www.dalagirls.com

Sometimes the price of admission is worth it just to hear one song. Those with a keen sense of pop music history might agree. I’m planning to savor that moment and a few others when Susan Cowsill performs at Concerts at the Crossing in Titusville, NJ on Oct. 24.  

If the name Susan Cowsill rings a bell it’s because she was the youngest member of The Cowsills, the bubblegum pop music-making family from the Sixties with hits like “The Rain, the Park, and Other Things,” “Indian Lake,” “Hair,” and “We Can Fly,” along with the theme song to the television show Love American Style. With her mother and five brothers, Susan appeared on such television programs as The Ed Sullivan Show, American Bandstand, and The Music Scene along with many others. And for those steeped in pop culture trivia, the band was the inspiration for television’s The Partridge Family.

Make no mistake about it, Susan Cowsill is no nostalgia act and anything but bubblegum. She’s achieved an element of musical hipness thanks to her stint as a member of the indie roots rock band, The Continental Drifters, a group that included such heavyweights as Vicki Peterson of The Bangles and Peter Holsapple of the dBs. The group recorded a half dozen albums between 1994-2001 before going their separate ways. Those albums are worth searching out. She’s also provided backing vocals to recordings by Dwight Twilley, Redd Kross, The Smithereens, Nanci Griffith, Carlene Carter and Jules Shear, while her compositions have been covered by The Bangles and Hootie and the Blowfish.

Although The Continental Drifters are no more, Susan carries on with her rootsy Americana-infused band. It’s not much of a musical stretch from the Continental Drifters, albeit a complete 360 from The Cowsills. Yes, Susan includes a Continental Drifters song or two in her set list and if you’re lucky, you may even get to hear The Cowsills’ sunshine pop classic, “The Rain, the Park, and Other Things.” And that my friends, would be well worth the price of admission even though I could say the same thing about her original music.  Three years ago Susan released her first solo CD, Just Believe It. In addition to some finely honed originals, it includes an amazing cover of Sandy Denny’s “Who Knows Where the Time Goes” along with a hidden track of The Beach Boys’ “Don’t Worry Baby.”  A new CD is in the works.

There are worse things you can lay claim to in life besides being the youngest member of the most successful bubblegum pop music family of the Sixties and one of the coolest roots rock bands of the past 20 years. Any way you slice it or dice it, or care to interpret it, Susan Cowsill has a most impressive musical résumé. I’ve been desperately trying to book her into Concerts at the Crossing for the past four years. Fortunately my persistence has paid off.

Susan Cowsill and her band appear at Concerts at the Crossing in Titusville on Oct. 24 at the Unitarian Univeralist Church at Washington Crossing, 268 Washington Crossing-Pennington Road. Showtime is 8 p.m. Tickets are $23. Kids 14 and under are $5. For information and tickets visit http://concertsatthecrossing.com or call (609) 406-1424.  

Orange County California’s Sick Boys are at it again–Social Distortion began its first tour since 2007 earlier this month, hitting Sayrville’s Starland Ballroom Oct. 7 and Atlantic City’s House of Blues Oct. 17.

Ten days, two NJ shows?  The love is definitely appreciated, especially after the first show.  And especially since it’s the band first tour since 2007, and, as far as I can tell, even longer since they’ve toured the East Coast.

In addition, the band’s working on a new album that will be released sometime in 2010.  They released Greatest Hits album in 2007, though the last entirely-new-material album was 2004’s Sex, Love, and Rock and Roll.

I’m not quite sure what to say about the crowd at the Starland show, since neither Middle Class Rut nor The Strangers, the opening bands, seemed to get the many attending the show moving.  While it could be the opening band “trap”–what I call the “we don’t know you so we’re not gonna dance” phenomenon–I think it was more the crowd than the music.  Though I didn’t buy either groups’ CDs, I’ve heard worse opening bands.

Social D’s set began around ten, with “The Creeps” as the opening number.  While I could list every song played, I have something even better:
The venue staff handed the set list to some of the concert goers, and I managed to stand next to someone who got one.  For clarification, since I know it’s a blurry photo, the first four songs are They Creeps, Another State of Mind, Mommy’s Little Monster, and Sick Boys.  99 to Life also made the list, though it’s not on the typed copy,  unless there’s some alternate title.  Did I ever mention that cellphone cameras are about the best invention ever, and saved me from trying to remember the entire list?
Camera phones aside, I was incredibly happy Social D opened with songs from Mommy’s Little Monster before moving into newer material.  I wasn’t expecting to hear Another State of Mind or Sick Boys–the latter is one of my favorite Social D songs, so I was incredibly happy to hear it!  Other favorites included Don’t Drag Me Down, Reach For the Sky, Ball and Chain, Prison Bound, and Story of My Life.  Though I would have loved hearing Under My Thumb–a guilty pleasure song, since it’s arguably more misogynist than the Rolling Stone’s original . . .but it’s just so good–I can’t fault the list.  It blended classic Social D with newer material, and definitely didn’t disappoint.
Two new songs made the list as well–Can’t Take It With You, which Mike Ness introduced with a story about buying a dead guy’s suit at a second-hand shop in Kansas, and Still Alive.
While I have no complaints about the performances, the show did have some downsides.  Anyone reading this blog knows several reasons I don’t like Starland Ballroom–it’s small, the beer selection is rotten, the size makes getting a decent pit doing incredibly hard, and A LOT of amateurs come into the pit.  This time there’s a new complaint: What happened to the coat check?  I’ve been to Fall shows before, and it seems like coat checks are a constant during colder weather, and it’s definitely been cold at night.  I understand having someone hold your coat if you attended the show in a group, however, I tend to go to shows solo.  I ended up weaving my coat (with the concert tshirt in the pocket, since I do my tshirt shopping at shows and still haven’t gotten over losing this year’s Green 17 tour shirt) through my belt so I wouldn’t lose it.
Saying the pit was hit-or-miss would be a cliche and a bad pun.  Unfortunately, it’s also true.  The moshers had a ton of energy, which showed each time you circled around the edges, or slammed into another sweat-covered body.  Though there were more experienced moshers than I expected, the few inexperienced moshers stood out more than normal.  I acquired a new pet peeve because of the pit too: I really hate that inexperienced girls won’t get thrown out of a pit by the other moshers or by security.  It’s a complete double-standard–if a guy can get thrown out for acting like a jerk, then a girl doing the same thing should too.
Despite the overly excited amateurs, the pit had its moments–particularly when it broke up to help two guys in wheelchairs crowd surf.  I have no idea who lifted the guys up initially, or how hard they needed to hold on to stay in their chairs, but it’s definitely awesome to see anyone who can reach that high stop dancing just to keep these guys up.  I’m short, and it’s another reason I wish I were taller.
If the two sold-out shows are any indication, New Jersey’s definitely not taking Social Distortion for granted.

It’s no big secret: I love mosh pits.  I go to concerts intent on going in the pit.  I moshed on sprained ankles, after taking an elbow in my tooth, and, after knocking the elbowed tooth loose, with a mouthguard.  Of all the shows attended, I’ve only missed two and a half pits–the half is for the Pennywise show in April, where I got a little too inebriated prior to Pennywise’s performance, and was way too dizzy to get knocked around.

Despite the arms and legs flailing, shoes flying off, spilled beer, kids slamming into each other and general chaos, there is actually mosh pit etiquette.  Unfortunately, people don’t always respect it–hence why I’ve sat out of two pits.

This having been said (an in attempt to spare friends, family, and coworkers from hearing my squeeling about seeing Social Distortion in nine days), I present the (somewhat censored)Mosh Pit Manifesto: Eileen’s top ten rules of moshing.

Here we go:

(1) If someone falls down, pick them up.

Explanation: There are A LOT of people in mosh pits.  The sweaty, loud, slammed-together craziness is part of the appeal.  Despite the intimidating atmosphere and angry music, there’s always a risk that, if someone goes down, they might not be able to get up–and most moshers don’t want to see their fellow fans get trampled.  It’s simple courtesy and respect.

(2) Respect that some people want to mosh, and others don’t–and don’t try to stop or complain about either group doing their thing.

Explanation: It’s a fact of concerts: some people go to shows to enjoy the music without moshing.  Others mosh because they can’t imagine staying still while seeing their favorite band live.  Forcing someone to mosh if they aren’t in to it is both incredibly rude and could get them hurt.  That having been said, there are people who adore moshing and know what a pit entails–don’t force the moshers to stop simply because you don’t like pits.  Instead, watch from a spot that isn’t near the pit.

(3) Stay alert!

Explanation: When there are many, many, many people banging into each other, it really doesn’t pay to space out or acquire temporary tunnel vision.  There’s a lot of activity going on in the pit, and it’s going on in every direction.  When you’re on the wall, be ready for collisions from all angles, and to help anyone who falls.

(4) You will get banged up from moshing.

Explanation: Getting thrown around, and colliding with other dancers is a key part of mosh pits.  There’s a 90% chance that you’ll walk out with several new bruises sustained while in the pit.  There’s also a decent chance you’ll end up with some sort of fluid on you.  This could be beer, water, your own sweat, someone else’s sweat, or some other bodily fluid, yours or otherwise.  If you’re not okay with bruises and bodily fluids, the pit might not be for you.

(5)  Randomly punching people just because you can is not cruise control for cool.  It’s actually jerktacular.

Explanation: Yes, people get thrown around in mosh pits.  Yes, you collide with other people, and various appendages tend to collide with other people.  This is not an excuse to start throwing punches, nor will anyone think you’re undeniably awesome.  Instead, people will probably think you’re an unexperienced idiot, and will probably try to take you out–and that’s the good option.  If security sees you throwing punches, they’ll probably throw you out of the venue.

(6) Even in mosh pits, copping a feel is still creepy.  Also, the edge of a mosh pit is NOT the place to hook up.

Explanation: As I’ve said, there are a lot of people in pits, and certain creeps may think they’ll never get caught if they grope the dancers–male or female dancers; I know my male friends have been grabbed a few times.  I hate to break it to you –we can still feel you grabbing us, it’s not hard to figure out who it is, and it’s sleezy.  If you’re lucky, the person you grabbed will keep dancing and drop it.  If you’re not, the dancer may retaliate–either themselves or via a significant other.  And remember the rule about staying alert?  You can’t really do that if you’re making out.  If that’s what you want to do, move away from the pit.

(7) If you’re not really okay with losing it or messing it up, don’t bring it in the pit.  This includes your teeth, arms, legs, skull, and other body parts.

Explanation: Major pet peeve with this one, as it’s a general rule of life–do you really need your designer shoes, bag, jeans or clothes at a show?  Does your Dolce and Gabana bag even belong in the same zip code as a punk or metal concert?  Never mind the fact that it probably will get damaged, wouldn’t you worry about it being stolen?  As I said earlier, there’s a lot going on the pit, and it’s not very clean.  If keeping something nice matters to you that much, leave it home and wear something you’re okay with getting messed up.

(8) If it comes off easily, reconsider wearing it in the pit.

Explanation: Sandals, badly-tied sneakers, heels and baseballs caps can all come off very easily in the pit.  Once off, these can be really hard–if not impossible–to find again.  Rule eight runs with rule seven: if you’re not okay with losing it, don’t wear it.

(8 a) For women only: Ladies, make sure your shirt stays up–or on–before leaving for the show.  I mean, unless you’re really okay with flashing the band and half the concert.

(9) Never be “that guy” or “that girl”–the one who leaves to vomit, or, worse, vomits in the pit.

Explanation: Believe me, I get that drinking is part of the concert experience.  And I get that it’s all in good fun.  But puking before, during or after a show definitely isn’t.  And puking in a pit is just disgusting.

(10) Sometimes, trying to stop a pit is a lost cause.

Explanation: At certain shows, pits are inevitable.  Moshers love their music, they love their pits, and the pit’s going to open despite non-moshers trying to stop it.  In these cases, trying to close a pit is a worse idea than letting it open.  Sit back, move away from the pit if it’s bugging you, let everyone do their thing–part of enjoying a show is balancing an awesome performance with the crowd’s personal preferences.

If there are rules to blogging on concerts and music, the first should be don’t procrastinate on entries.  There’s a really good reason for this: you tend to forget the set list if you don’t write your entry shortly after seeing the show.

Case in point: my summer concert forays.   Since June 21, the “official” start of summer,  I hit the Dropkick Murphys’ summer tour–admittedly, this was out in, as bassist Ken Casey said “Outside Pittsburgh or wherever the (expletive deleted) we are”, but I haven’t missed a summer tour since 2007–The Offspring at Roseland Ballroom July 8, Warped Tour July 19, and Mighty Mighty Bosstones Aug. 16.  While I tried to get to the Bouncing Souls’ Aug. 22 show, 95 flooded, and I couldn’t get to Philly.  I’m pretty disappointed about that one, since I haven’t seen the Souls in ages, and since it was my friend’s bachelor party.  Sorry I missed the fun Rob!

I’m pretty happy to say the shows were mostly awesome, even if I procrastinated myself out of remembering the set lists.  The incredibly minor cons included missing the opening bands for the Offspring, the lack of a decent pit at the same show, and missing the start of Warped because I overslept and then couldn’t find parking at the venue.

And, after hitting those shows and spending a few days in Boston over the summer, I’m pretty convinced that New Jersey is the Summer Concert Mecca.  While perusing LiveNation and Ticketmaster for Boston shows prior to my trip, I was bummed for two reasons: (1) There were only a few shows in the Boston area during the time I visited, and (2)Of the shows, none particularly interested me.

Despite the traffic (Turnpike, I am looking at YOU), tourists at the beach, taxes, and high rent, New Jersey is utterly amazing for concerts.  Look at any venue’s concert list, and you’ll find a show for every weekend in the summer.  If you opt for the less-mainstream approach, you can find decent music at many bars throughout the state–there are constant chances for decent entertainment.

While I know this is a Central Jersey blog, I have to mention the proximity to New York and Philly and how easy it is to attend a show there–barring torrential downpours and your route flooding.

And the entertainment doesn’t taper off at the end of summer either.  Look at the show lists for Stone Pony, House of Blues, Starland Ballroom–it’s (almost) all concerts, all the time.  If you search Ticketmaster or LiveNation for Philly and New York, it’s even more to choose from.

Now if I could just get around that pesky money thing, and trying to have more of it, I’d be set!

Crossposted from Channel Surfing:

I’d been hearing that this was going to come out, but really wasn’t sure what to say about it. I’m still not sure — a Bob Dylan Christmas album featuring him singing such happy tunes as “Here Comes Santa Claus,” “Winter Wonderland,” “Little Drummer Boy” and “Must Be Santa.”

What to say?

The album is a charity project — as his release says,

All of the artist’s U.S. royalties from sales of these recordings will be donated to Feeding America, guaranteeing that more than four million meals will be provided to more than 1.4 million people in need in this country during this year’s holiday season. Bob Dylan is also donating all of his future U.S. royalties from this album to Feeding America in perpetuity.

Additionally, the artist is partnering with two international charities to provide meals during the holidays for millions in need in the United Kingdom and the developing world, and will be donating all of his future international royalties from Christmas In The Heart to those organizations in perpetuity. Details regarding the international partnerships will be announced next week.

“When we reached out to Bob Dylan about becoming involved with our organization, we could never have anticipated that he would so generously donate all royalties from his forthcoming album to our cause,” said Vicki Escarra, president and CEO of Feeding America. “This major initiative from such a world renowned artist and cultural icon will directly benefit so many people and have a major impact on spreading awareness of the epidemic of hunger in this country and around the world.”

Bob Dylan commented, “It’s a tragedy that more than 35 million people in this country alone — 12 million of those children – often go to bed hungry and wake up each morning unsure of where their next meal is coming from. I join the good people of Feeding America in the hope that our efforts can bring some food security to people in need during this holiday season.”

I still don’t know what to say.

I’ve been listening to Mink DeVille a lot lately. I’ve been a fan for a long time, but like so much of what we listen to in our late youth (say 17-22) we forget and let the music recede to memory. Part of it, for me, was the change in technology — the move from LPs and tape to CDs made the stuff that I had in my vinyl collection somewhat obsolete.

So, about three weeks ago (July 22), I decided to buy a compilation disk — The Best of Mink DeVille — because I’d missed the band’s mix of blue-eyed soul and punk-rock attitude.

Maybe I knew something I wasn’t supposed to know — Willy DeVille, the band’s artistic leader, its chief songwriter and singer, died this week after a battle with pancreatic cancer. The news, which I heard Friday, saddened me more than I would have thought — DeVille, as I said, had ceased to be a central player in my personal soundtrack. And yet, he was important to me as a roots-rocker with attitude.

In songs like “Cadillac Walk,” “Spanish Stroll” and “Let Me Dream If I Want To,” he created a geography of sound, a sense of place — a mythic Brooklyn of the past and present — that made him stand out from the rest of the punk scene.

DeVille for me combined what I liked best about Southside Johnny and early groups like the Drifters with that in-your-face sense that I got from the rest of his compadres.

Listening today, it might be easy to forget that DeVille was a central player among the New York punkers — mostly because we’ve narrowed our sense of what punk is. But DeVille and the rest of the New York scene (Television, Patti Smith, the Contortions, James Black and the Whites, The Shirts, The Ramones, etc.) were always about more than volume and speed. They were about experimentation and a deconstructed nostalgia that remade music at a time when it was dominated by flaccid arena rockers like Styx and REO Speedwagon.

I’ve probably listened to DeVille’s album on my iPod a dozen times since I bought it, not including the songs I’ve added to various playlists. I’m glad I rediscovered DeVille before he died and know his legacy will live on.

Crossposted from Channel Surfing:

This post demands a preface. The list that follows is in no way meant to be a comprehensive overview of the year in music. Its limitations are to be expected, guided by my own tastes and wallet. These are not necessarily the best albums of 2009, so far, the most notable or the most popular. They are just what they are: music that has been in heavy rotation on my iPod during the first almost seven months.

I’m going to list them alphabetically, to keep readers from thinking I’ve ranked them;

• Lily Allen, It’s Not Me, It’s You — This is a dance record full of sly commentary and nasty asides; you have to pay attention, but make sure you’ve got on some kicking shoes.
• Art Brut, Art Brut v. Satan — Album no. 3 from the British pop-punkers is as funny and sarcastic as the first, with a big guitar sound that translates well live (in fact, they are probably a better live band than studio band). These guys deserve to be stars, or as they might say, on “top of the pops”!
• Elvis Costello, Secret, Profane and Sugarcane — Elvis goes bluegrass? This is an intriguing record, proving again that Elvis Costello is as restless as Neil Young when it comes to bending genres and providing a moving target for listeners.
• Steve Earle, Townes — A labor of love, an album of songs written by the late, great Townes Van Zandt (Earle’s mentor) that brings one of the great folk/country songwriters back to the limelight.
• Franz Ferdinand, Tonight – The band gets its disco on with its third effort (a remix/dub version called Blood is just as crazy) with great results.
• Green Day, 21st Century Breakdown — Not as good as American Idiot, but then that would have been too much to be expected. I would have pared this back some, but it continues in AI’s political/operatic vein.
  Buddy & Judy Miller, Written in Chalk — This is what Lucinda Williams calls sh**-kicking country. Or is it rock? Or blues? That the Millers make it so difficult to categorize this album says all you need to know.
• Son Volt, American Central Dust — The band returns to their alt-country roots with a masterful release, as good as The Search, though less eclectic.
• Bruce Springsteen, Working on a Dream — A good, but flawed follow-up to Magic that features some great tunes and at least one clinker (”Queen of the Supermarket”). It’s still Bruce, however, so it gets a guaranteed spot in the rotations.
• U2, No Line on the Horizon — I’ve not made my mind up about the latest from the Irish rockers. The single, “Put on Your Boots,” is great, but the album has the feel of Zooropa, a sonic misdirection in the wake of a huge predecessor. (It is far better than Zooropa or Pop, so don’t misread what I’m saying.)
• Wilco, Wilco (The Album) — Right now, this is my favorite album of 2009. Following Sky Blue Sky, a lovely, through somewhat subdued retrenching, Wilco (The Album) hits on all cylinders, bringing pieces of each of its six studio predecessors (not including various EPs or the CD included with The Wilco Book) so that the album stands as both a summary of the band’s past and a step forward into the future.

Other albums worth noting, but that I have not had the chance to buy (I’ve either grabbed singles through the great podcasts at IndieFeed or MPR Song of the Day): Levon Helm, Electric Dirt; Low Anthem, Oh My God Charlie Darwin; Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band, Outer South; St. Vincent, Actor; Camera Obscura, My Maudlin Career; John Doe and the Sadies, Country Club

Okay, let’s start off by saying that I am about a month away from turning 24 years old. I consider myself of the digital age, I cannot live without my iPod and I am a text-messaging fiend.

But who’s to say I’m too young to enjoy a concert with stars of decades past?

On June 26, I attended a concert celebrating the 30th anniversary of Caesars Atlantic City, where they brought Tony Orlando, Ann-Margret and Paul Anka to the stage to commemorate having been some of the first performers when the hotel/casino first opened in 1979. I admit the idea of going to the concert did not completely excite me, and I really only went because it was how my family decided to celebrate my father’s birthday last weekend. That’s all well and good, and frankly the reason I gave to my co-workers to explain my going to listen to celebrities who were at the heights of their careers before I was even born.

Now I will be completely honest, here in writing, and say I actually had a good time at the concert. Of course, it took about five songs during the first set with Orlando before I recognized any of them, with the first I knew being a cover of “America” by Neil Diamond (okay, maybe I recognized “Knock 3 Times,” but to be fair, I didn’t realize that until 15 minutes after Orlando sang it). After that, I only recognized about every other song throughout the rest of the concert, but it was still a nice time.

As for the whole concert, I found Orlando interesting, Ann-Margret kind of dull and Anka an exciting performer. I actually think my favorite part of Orlando’s performance was when he called his guitar player forward, explaining that the man has had a dream of performing himself on the Caesars stage, before allowing the man to sing solo. The guy definitely had some pipes!

The prize of the night, though, went to Anka, who began his set not by singing on the stage, but by wandering through the crowd, shaking hands, giving hugs, snapping pictures and turning the microphone on unsuspecting concertgoers - all a practice he continued through almost every song. I think I was most intrigued when he grabbed a cell phone out of one woman’s hand and proceeded to sing into it, asking the person on the other end why he was not there and apologizing that these singers would not be back next year. I also applauded his use of a screen showing moments from his past, if only because it showed a clip from his performance on the “Ed Sullivan Show” - I know, I’m too young for that show too, but I can still appreciate its mark on television history, if nothing else but for the fact that my grandfather was a cameraman for the show and was at that performance.

But I say my favorite part of Anka’s performance was about halfway through when the screen came down again with Sammy Davis Jr. singing “I’m Not Anyone,” which was written by Anka. Anka proceeded to sing along with Davis and it was incredible, and sad, to hear the two legendary voices together.

All in all, I’m glad I went to the concert, no matter how young I may be or how many of the songs I didn’t know. When I was young (and didn’t yet know which radio stations I wanted to listen to), all I would hear are the songs my parents enjoyed on their oldies stations, so it was a different experience to hear some of them live.

And for that, I will say, we’re never too young to appreciate the classics.