Tribute Bands

The Jazz Bus: Tribute Bands
Imagine going to OLD TIMERS DAY at Yankee Stadium, 2011, and hearing, “Now batting Number 7, Mickey Mantle” and seeing Mickey Mantle walk to the plate. Well, not exactly The Mick but an “exciting recreation” of The Mick. Wait, nobody can swing like the Mick, nor run as fast. Who is this guy? Bummer, huh? Yea. That’s what I think about so called “Tribute” bands. Why bother when it’s all been done before, only better.
These thoughts were pounding through what’s left of my brain as we, The Bride and I, boarded the LIRR for our sojourn into Manhattan to see RAIN: A Tribute To The Beatles. What was I thinking getting these tickets on the advice of a friend who reviewing the show stated “I felt like I was back at Shea Stadium”? I had only hoped she did not mean watching The Mets (50 wins 112 loses) because I assumed she meant 1965 and The Fab Four.
Sunday morning on the westbound train is a bit different from the Saturday 3 a.m. eastbound to which I am more accustomed. The Sunday clientele is a bit more refined, dignified , soft spoken, and lacks that vulgarity so freely used on the other train; in other words these “commuters” were quite sober, especially today as all alcohol was banned for “the courtesy of those attending The Puerto Rican Day Parade”. Our day was thoughtfully planned; a visit to Strawberry Fields, a matinee on Broadway ,dinner after the show and a stroll through The Village . What more could I ask for?
First, the weather when we left Copiague was not cooperating, over cast, and a bit chilly. The train ride, a local, made all its appointed stops, and I felt the tinge of a stomach bug coming on. Arriving to the throngs of Penn Station we immediately looked to aide my pangs, but what resembled a pretzel was harder than rock candy. A cab ride resembling the Cyclone at Coney Island deposited us at our destination where we spent a few moments deciding where to go. The sun was shining but a trip to Strawberry Fields was out so we had a “diet coke” in a pub.
The show was a pleasant surprise. No plot, no story except the progression of the Beatles music. The first act better for me than the second one. The characters all “resembled” the Fab Four, the sound recreation great, and being partial to percussionists I thought “the drummer”, as they used no reference to the “characters” they played, was note and pitch perfect. I could have done without the numerous requests to “stand up and dance” or “wave your hands” (Hey Jude), or flash the peace sign (John circa 71).
After the show another exciting ride at 150 MPH downtown to The White Horse where we dined al fresco, a true street show unto itself, followed by a nice evening stroll through Sheridan Square and The Village, exploring some of the old haunts. Standing on West Fourth watching the basketballers in The Cage I thought back to times past, the music, the travels, and friends…I guess that is what tribute bands are meant to do. jazzbus@gmail.com