March 12, 2008
Drunk on Free Everclear
Terrible, cheap beer has brought us many things - some regretful, some extraordinary. We’re not sure which of the categories the following event falls under.
Breaching the fifteen-year rule that safeguards preemptive attacks of nostalgia that are likely to occur in popular music, on March 25th Miller Lite and Going.com present the third and largest of their Great Taste Music Series with a local appearance by the band, Everclear.
Easily synonymous with the phrases “alternative rock” and “tattooed dad,” Everclear were responsible for the radio hits “Santa Monica” “Father of Mine” and the ostensible ode to new money, “I Will Buy You a New Life.”
Revisit the land of guitars at Ned Devine’s and save your money for the cash bar because this event is absolutely free when you RSVP
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I made the mistake of going to the free everclear concert tonight. I have been a fan since I first heard Santa Monica on the radio and was excited to hear that Everclear would be playing in Boston, and better yet free. After waiting in line outside in the freezing cold for an hour and a half, we shuffled in to find only Miller products being served. I sorely wanted some whiskey to warm me up and discovered that a $6 dollar Miller Lite in a plastic bottle tastes like urine.
The opener band, Street Credit, started after 9 to the concertgoers chargin. They sounded like 311. Rather than attempting their own material, they should really have relied on 311 covers. Though the opening band deserves respect for having the balls to play to a silent, glaring crowd from which screams of "you suck" and "where's Everclear" were heard. After the (thankfully) short set, we waited for an hour for the main act to start, watching sound guys scuttle across stage troubleshoot some audio problem.
Finally, Everclear jumped on stage, black tees, tattooed, and guaunt wrinkled faces; opened with a lively "Everything to Everyone" followed by the crowd favorite "Father of mine"; and went downhill from there. Thanks to Art who went through the motions of playing his guitar, knowing the sound guys never fixed the problem. You weren't fooling anyone. The middle of the set was empty and tired, though guitarist Davey French did his best to rouse the crowd with hair band stage antics. Art did the usual cussing out the crowd, but was obviously as tired as I was with the whole concert. Stick to producing guy.
I can't say how the rest of the set was, or the signing afterwards, since I left during the lackluster cover of Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl." I guess I shouldn't complain, it was free.