When I was younger, so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in any way...

There's perhaps no greater experience than seeing a beloved band for the first time. I'll never forget a particular Saturday in early May of 2004, a day on which I had that experience twice. It started rather early in the day, one which followed a long, thrilling night of poker and debauchery in the company of good friends. The next morning, in the company of a handful of my closest friends at the time, I schlepped, hangover and all, down to Asbury Park for the Skate and Surf Festival (since bastardized as The Bamboozle and moved north to Giants Stadium) to see, among other less memorable bands, Further Seems Forever reunited with their original lead singer, Chris Carrabba of Dashboard Confessional, performing their only album together. It was, and remains, one of my favorite albums of all time, but I had never been fortunate enough to see them live before Chris struck out on his own. It took only minutes inside the dim, loud, stuff convention hall for me to seek refuge (AKA a smoke and a pillow) in our hotel room across the parking lot. As I stumbled across the grass lot, I remember being literally stopped in my tracks by a female voice unlike any I had ever heard. It wasn't the best, but it was without a doubt the most passionate. That was the first time I ever heard Hayley Williams of Paramore. I stood in one spot, transfixed, behind a crowd of perhaps 60 people and listened to every note of their 25 minute set, as shocked as I was thrilled to have unwittingly stumbled into a band which I had never heard of before, but knew I wanted to hear as much as possible of from that point on. By the time their set ended, I found myself rejuvenated. I don't think I set foot in the hotel once between that point and the aftermath of Further Seems Forever's set.

Like literally thousands of the festival's attendees, I was stuck outside, a victim of an overcrowded main hall which simply couldn't accomodate every single one of the festivalgoers trying to watch the same thing. Had it not been for a large group of people which rushed, and distracted, the trio of security guards manning the huge loading doors which lead straight from the boardwalk into the main standing room area, I wouldn't have made it inside. As it was, i slipped by just in time to hear Chris say "we made a record one time and we'd like to play it for you tonight." I screamed, I pumped my fist, and I did my damndest to dance a little bit while packed in like a sardine. The experiences couldn't have been more opposite, but they shared a single common thread: the buzz of hearing songs which touch your core performed live for the first time.

This Thursday evening, I'm poised to know that buzz again, for the first time in ages, when I see The Gaslight Anthem at Terminal 5. I fell completely in love with Gaslight the very first time I heard them back in March. I spent essentially the entire time between that moment and the moment Paramore's "brand new eyes" made its' way onto the internet (I've since bought it, Hailey, I promise!) listening to Gaslight, falling as deeply in love with them as I've ever been with any other band. Months of anticipation come to an end Thursday evening, as I get my first chance to see the band in the flesh.

As fate would have it, this Thursday also marks a major step towards the resolution of the Phillies' quest to repeat as World Champions. One of the few things I've ever known which trumped my love of music is my love of sports, and my devotion, as anyone who knows me knows, to my beloved Philly teams. Watching the Phightins bring home the Commissioner's Trophy last October was like seeing every band I've ever loved opening for the Beatles. This all leads me back, of course, to Thursday night, which as most anyone reading this surely knows, marks game 1 of the NLCS between the Phillies and Dodgers. It's only game 1 of a seven game series, I know, but having invested somewhere in the neighborhood of 500+ hours on the Phillies this year, and more than I'd ever like to think about over the course of my lifetime, and knowing how electric every single pitch of that game will be, missing even an inning of a seven game series doesn't just seem hard to swallow, it seems like a slap in my own face. But then, of course, so does missing a show I agonized over during the weeks it took for Gaslight to announce the NYC portion of their tour.

So here's my plan: I'm gonna go spend the next couple days playing Brutal Legend, reminding myself that the framerate's instability is a 360 issue, not a My 360 issue (i have RRoD paranoia issues). I leave it to you, friends, tweeps, countrymen, to decide which side of my face needs to be slapped: the music-loving side, or the sports-loving side. Write-in votes, especially those which make fun of my indecision, are encouraged. For anyone needing a quick refresher course, I leave you with a brilliant slideshow of the Phillies' epic NLDS game 3 victory, compiled by the equally brilliant Macho Row, as well as a video of The Gaslight Anthem performing my favorite song of theirs, "The Backseat." Enjoy, and please vote! You're my only hope!
The Phillies


vs. The Gaslight Anthem