Monday morning. It's like a curse if
you work as an entertainment reporter. Deadlines never feel more
pressing and the close of another weekend inevitably opens up to a
day full of catching up on who is fighting, dating, divorcing and
dropping new music while trying to curtail a potential scandal. From
my perspective, life for celebs would be a whole lot easier if they
took a page from the life playbook of an average Joe and kept their
clothes on, paid their bills and remembered that the Cloud makes
everything accessible. Monday morning and here I sit buried beneath
work and unsure of where to start. While I figure it out I decide to
go back in time and listen to a few old tracks that will prepare me
for a show that I'll be reviewing tomorrow night. The Rage and
Rapture Tour which is co-headlined by Garbage and Blondie.
A few lines in and I'm standing in my
parents very first apartment where my love of music all began. It's
a few days before Halloween and my parents were throwing a party for
all of their friends. The night before was my kiddie party in our
basement. I wore a Wonder Woman costume that was so NOT a Wonder
Woman costume because it had a skirt and no lasso. I remember a punch
bowl and bobbing for apples and little else. But my parents party,
well that was the real deal. There was neat lighting, a table full of
sweets that I was never allowed to have and all of our doorways had
beads hanging from them that you were supposed to walk through.
I was 7 years old and beginning to
develop my own taste and thanks to my dad's music obsession disco was a big part of it. When I was about
five dad started to train as a DJ at a local radio station and his
little record collection on a tiny cart with wheels suddenly took
over a whole wall of our living room. Even in that small apartment
dads stereo was front and center. His love of music turned into an
educated love of stereo equipment. He spent two hours without fail
every night cranking out tunes, everything from Pink Floyd to Blue
Oyster Cult to ABBA and all the while he was fiddling with levers on
all sorts of boxes that were supposed to somehow enhance the sound. I
didn't know if the “woofers and tweeters” did any good but the
day that he played Chic's “Le Freak” my life immediately changed.
The last song of every evening was
picked out by me and by the time 1978 rolled around I was choosing
things like “Ring My Bell”, “The Hustle” and “Disco
Inferno”. I also waited anxiously for Saturday afternoons to roll
around because, thanks to cable television and WPIX in NYC I had
discovered The Soap Factory, a weekly dance show. A few weeks before
my parents party we were all watching as Blondie performed a song
called “Heart of Glass”. I was mesmerized by her blonde
hair, bright lip stick and her turquoise pants suit. My dad always
watched The Soap Factory with me but this time even my mom stopped to
check out Debbie Harry. I mean, how could you not?
My mom spent the next week or so in
party planning mode. She would fill the bathroom sink with water and
bubbles and I'd spend an hour in there playing with all of my Fisher
Price Little People. I loved having them swim and ride in their boats
every night after dinner and I can remember my mom on the phone in
the next room on the phone night-after-night making plans for this
bash. My dad was always the laid back one and seemed to have little
involvement. She hung sparklie decorations, made food and spiked the
punch all while dad was engrossed in his albums. Neither of us
realized what he
was actually up to and as it turned
out, dads involvement was actually monumental because he was
preparing to put all of those newfound DJ skills to good use.
My mom had a surprise or two up her
sleeve as well. The creativity was always flowing in that little
apartment and so for the week leading up to the party when dad and
his music was taking over the living room, mom was in her studio. It
was a small room with her easel and mountain of art supplies on one side and her Singer sewing machine
on the other. Beneath a window was a big cushion with built in
pillows to nap on. That was my spot to read or draw when mom was busy
drawing advertisements for our local newspaper. Dad had thought that
mom was working on extra assignments for art school when in fact she
had been busy at her sewing machine making a turquoise satin pants
suit just like Debbie Harry's. She had decided to put her blonde wavy
hair and 100 pound frame to good use and transform into his new
favorite singer, gold cuff bracelet and all, for their Halloween
party. An hour or so into the party dad pulled
out a surprise record that he was really excited about. It was Blondie's “Heart of Glass”, an
extended dance mix that wasn't available in the states yet. When he
ordered music for the station he would also add a few import records
from the UK for his own collection and Blondie had just become
available. It was a song that no one else knew until he played it
that night but everyone loved it. Everyone was dancing, even the guys
that had been downing their Michelob beer on the floor in front of
the stereo all night. One spin of that record led to about 20 more
before the night was over.
I might have been the only one not in
costume and that was because there was no way that I was going to put
that fake Wonder Woman thing on again. My aunt (moms younger sister)
decided in the middle of what looked like a Soul Train line dance
that I needed some makeup at least. She grabbed me and her purse and
hauled us both into the bathroom. There aunt Elaine pulled out her
black eyeliner and within a few minutes had transformed me into
“Cleopatra”. I wasn't sure exactly who that was but my eyes
looked like I belonged on The Soap Factory so that kinda sorta made
me Debbie Harry for the night too, right?
Everyone left after midnight. I
remember my dad explaining the concept of time to me and how the
digital clock turning to !2:01 am meant that it was Sunday morning
even though it still felt like Saturday night. Truth be told it was
far later than that and somehow I was still awake. My mom tried to
make me go to bed but when I begged for one more spin of “Heart of
Glass” my dad put the record on before she could even bother to
protest. My room needed to be cleaned up anyway because my bed was
where everyone left their belongings upon arrival. They and their
coats might have been gone but my toys were all over the place and my
precious Little People were scattered all over the room.
I swore that I would help clean up if
they let me stay up but instead I climbed into the green recliner
that had been temporarily moved into my room during the party. The
French doors to my room were open and I curled up there, watching as
my parents dragged garbage bags around to help clean up the wreckage.
My mom told me that I had 5 minutes until she was putting me to bed
and so I closed my eyes as Debbie Harry sang.
My love affair with Blondie and their
music has spanned nearly four decades and yet I've never had a chance
to see them live, until now. Debbie Harry is still completely in a
league of her own. While she many not have been slithering across the
stage on her back like Shirley Manson of Garbage did in the set
before, she still had her own unique vibe going on. Harry first took
the stage at The Mann Center in good old Philadelphia on Aug. 2nd
looking fairly inconspicuous in khaki's and a white button down
shirt. But once the lights hit her you saw the bee glasses and a
black cape with the words, “Stop Fucking The Planet” scrawled
across the back of it. Perhaps the best part is how normal she made
it all look.
Part of the reason that I've hesitated
in seeing Blondie up until now was the fear that they wouldn't live
up to the memories that I have of their earliest hits. Their opening
to “One Way Or Another” quickly put those fears of mine at
ease. They cruised through classics like “Atomic” totally
on point, with the captive crowd singing along. It's pretty hard for
me to believe that Harry is 72 because she can still rock out with
the best of them. Oh and her voice? Well, that's just fine too.
Blondie swept through several songs off of their new Pollinator
album and it was cool to hear the audience singing along with
songs like, “Long Time” because it proved that they were
still into whatever new stuff the band dreams up.
For me, the highlight came in the form
of “Rapture”. The crowd was singing along and dancing to
the little ditty about eating cars and bars. This song is legendary
because it features the very first rap verse to make it to the top of
Billboard's Hot 100 and Harry nailed that verse as the audience
cheered her on.
“Call Me”, “The Tide Is High”
and of course, “Heart Of Glass” were all served up
with flair before Blondie closed out a fantastic set with “Dreaming”.
Leave it to the iconic Harry to send us on our way with the reminder
that “dreaming is free”. I could attest to that on the spot
because this band on this particular night lived up to forty years
worth of hope and expectation.
Setlist:
One Way or Another
Hanging on the Telephone
Fun
Call Me
My Monster
Rapture
Rainy Day Women #12 & 35
Fragments
Too Much
Long Time
Atomic
Heart of Glass
Encore:
The Tide Is High
Dreaming