In another life...me as rock critic

How would writing concert and album reviews change my life?

What if, instead of writing about football and baseball games, interviewing coaches and athletes, I’d turned my writing skills — for whatever they were worth — to writing about rock music — full-time?

There was a magical summer when I worked in Framingham, Massachusetts for the Middlesex News where I got to cover a whole slate of concerts. U2, Neil Young and The Bluenotes, Bryan Ferry, Bob Dylan and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Bruce Springsteen, got to see and write about them all.

It was a wonderful little newspaper, they even offered a Sunday magazine that allowed me to write a few cover stories on some of the rock and rollers and other music-oriented themes. I reviewed a few records — performer Joe Ely even sent me an autographed album after reading one of my review — wrote a few book reviews, some columns for the editorial page, in short, was stretching my wings as a writer.

While I’m sure that it would have been a drag for me to be expected to review bands I didn’t like, getting good seats for free was pretty cool. I never got to interview any musicians or anything, just simply went to the shows or listened to the records and wrote feature stories. But it was fun. And having deadline writing skills from my days in sports was helpful, too. After a show, I could get those words down.

But at the same time, I read all sorts of concert reviews, some from guys who had been on the beat for a long time — Steve Morse, Ernie Santosuosso from the Boston Globe, Jon Pareles of the New York Times come to mind — and as a reader, you could tell that on some of their reviews, they were just grinding. Later, if I recall correctly, Santosuosso resigned his position as a concert reviewer when he recognized that it had been a couple of years since he had really been excited by a show.

One review that I was always proud of and considered myself lucky to have caught the band in concert was a review of a show by The Replacements at the University of Michigan on Valentine’s Day in 1991 that ran in the Port Huron Times Herald. Liz and I drove through a snow storm to get to the concert, John was a couple of years away and getting a chance to see them on a stage was something I’d really been looking forward to. It was an exciting night!

Their reputation, of course, was pretty wild. You never knew — they never knew — what was going to happen once they were on the stage, particularly if there had been a fair amount of alcohol consumption (or other stimulants) before hitting the stage. For some fans, seeing them go off the deep end and go crazy was why they came to see them. When they just played music, they were disappointed. Not me.

A huge fan of Paul Westerberg’s writing and general attitude towards music (and success), I just wanted to see them live. And they didn’t disappoint.

To me, it was the perfect combination of on-stage fun, introspective songwriting and a fresh, nobody-writes-like-this approach to their material. They weren’t like any other band that I knew.

That the show was on Valentine’s Day was not lost on Westerberg, who delivered the kind of performance that serious Replacement fans like me were hoping for. He’s the best singer-songwriter you probably don’t know. And if you ask me, you should.

They gave the sold-out crowd a wonderful, generous, crackerjack show that reminded all of us music fans that there are shows that will always stay with us. Getting to see The Replacements in concert was a show I’ll always treasure. I hope my concert review helps bring that magical evening back for you, too.

Enjoy! I’m listening to their music again as I write this…

One of the greatest rock bands never to "make it," The Replacements carved their own unique path.

February 17, 1991

The Replacements carve their niche

World’s “nobodies’ have friend in songwriter Paul Westerberg

ANN ARBOR – Twenty-four songs and 90 minutes into The Replacements’ Valentine’s Day show at Hill Auditorium, lead singer Paul Westerberg seemed to spot something or someone in the top row of the balcony.

Whether it was an overzealous fan or simply a sad face, his fixed his gaze there for a long time as he sang one of his most bitter songs – “Unsatisfied.”

Never turning his eyes away, Westerberg came down hard on the lines, “Look me in the eyes and tell me, I’m satisfied.”

So much for stardom. That Westerberg can still sing a song like that after six critically acclaimed albums says something about the challenges he sets for himself, his band and his audience.

Introducing the number as ‘a prayer I can relate to” it seemed a personal moment for the leader of the Minneapolis quartet in what was to be a generous 31-song show, including two encores.

His unusual mix of sensitive, sharply drawn epiphanies contrast nicely with his rousing anthems for the out-of-step and the disillusioned.

Thursday’s skillfully paced show was raw and stinging as a wet slap in the face.

With new drummer Steve Foley kicking off the show with a rockin’ “I Don’t Know”

Westerberg mixed the harder-edged older Replacements tunes with the kinder and gentler number of the band’s latest album “All Shook Down.” But in concert, even these songs assumed a rougher edge.

Westerberg, backed by Slim Dunlap on guitar and Tommy Stinson on bass, offered nine songs from the new record, including a version of his ironic chronicle of the band’s somewhat stormy existence (half of the original group has left) The song is wryly called “Happy Town.”

“The plan was to sweep the world off its feet, so you swept the garage for the neighbors to see. The plan was to set the world on its ear and I bet you don’t know why you’re here.”

So many of Westerberg’s tunes see to seek out that moment of personal confusion, when all signs seem to point the wrong way. Thursday’s concert was a nice package of about 25 of them, closing with “Left Of The Dial” and “Alex Chilton.”

Yet judging from the raucous reaction of the sold-out audience, he has found a devoted audience who have a direction – following his band.

As the group stomped their way through the show, the audience didn’t seem to mind Westerberg’s more personal, probing questions. It can be intense. It can be serious. It not rock lite.

Westerberg jumped around his song catalog, ranging from the sarcastic “Color Me Impressed” off 1980’s “Hootnanny” to the folk rock “I Will Dare” from 1984’s “Let It Be” to the sly slam of flight attendants “Waitress In The Sky” from 1985’s “Tim.”

Perhaps the most open-hearted pairing of the night came when his refutation of stardom – “I’ll Be You” (“You be me for a while and I’ll be you…”) was followed by “Nobody” off the new album. The latter was as sharply drawn as any of Westerberg’s songs and taken with the song that preceded it, seemed to paint a portrait of an extremely sensitive man who hides behind a hard-charging band.

In the song, the main character attends his old girlfriend’s wedding, shocking those in attendance. Still loving her, he uses a clever bit of word play to leave her a poignant note on the last page of her wedding album – revealing as much about himself as their relationship.

“And on the last page it says, ‘Love, Nobody. And you’re still lovin’ Nobody. And I won’t tell nobody. And I used to be Nobody. Not anymore.”

It may be that in his mind, Paul Westerberg writes for all the lonely, unhappy people – the nobodies, as he calls them – in this world.

The Hill Auditorium was filled with “nobodies” Thursday. But they didn’t leave feeling that way.

With their distinctive, compassionate show, The Replacements made sure of that.

Here’s Their ONE radio hit - “I’ll Be You”