Yesterday would have been Joe Strummer's 60th birthday. As sad as it is that he has been gone 10 years, I can't help but smile because the first concert I ever saw was The Clash.
I was 15 and my parents had to drive. They dropped me and my friend off at the Fox Theatre, which was yet unrefurbished (possibly not a word, I don't care). Though I have no pictures of the event, I would bet good money that I wore some over-sized top, a pair of jeans (with naturally formed holes), and my favorite grey boots with the black straps. I am also willing to bet that my hair was over my face.
I was there with other kids I kind of knew, all of whom were a year older than me. There isn't much to tell, really. I didn't keep track of the set list. I've moved a gazillion times, so I know I don't have the ticket stub. I do remember that we were seated to the left of the stage, only three rows from the most enormous amps possible. My ears rang for a week after the show (no exaggeration). I remember that we stood on the chairs for the whole show because there was no way I was getting down front near the real punks. I was just an angsty teenage girl from wonder bread land. And, I loved the show and kept the t-shirt until it fell apart.
The funniest part of the night had to be the guys behind us - four guys in varsity jackets! Jocks! Oh the horror! Well, before the show started, they were completely stoned. They sat with their heads in their hands, looking miserable. We all had a good laugh at them. I just couldn't imagine paying all that money and not remembering a thing.
What's the story behind your first concert?
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