A Black Keys show brings out a different kind of concert goer. Try on this (true) gem of a story for size: Whilst jockeying to get a good vantage spot to take in the set by the Ohio duo, I ran into a friendly hippie-type lady in her early 50s and we struck up a cool conversation. She talked about how she was a Social Services professor from Baltimore, and how she’d been able to sneak in and out of different V.I.P. sections the entire day because the security staff let her go wherever she wanted. “I don’t know why they do that,” she said, “maybe it’s one of the advantages of being a little older.” But her best quote was this: “Last year at Bonnaroo, some guy died in his tent and no one really noticed because there was so much going on,” – then she paused and continued – “I guess he was going to die anyway.”
Anyways, back to the music – the Black Keys finally got on, and their grungy, reverb-heavy, bourbon-drenched blues was in full effect. Dan Auerbach’s guitar-playing prowess has gotten more soulful than ever, and his gravelly voice sounded like it’d been dry-baked over hot coals. That combined with his bandmate’s Pat Carney’s mastery of the drums was just the prescription we all needed to cap off a weekend where the extremely soggy conditions almost succeeded in stealing the festival’s spirit.Seriously, this band has gotten so good at what they do, that at some intervals during the show, you were almost expecting BB King to emerge from backstage and give the lads a pat on their backs for really perfecting their raw, blues-rock sound.
Swampy concert grounds, exceptional swampy blues, macabre festival tales – you have to admit, good times don’t come any better.
