Back in the fall of 1994, I spent a semester abroad in London. I can still find our tube station and where we lived with street view on Google maps. That's pretty cool, although everything has clearly changed.
Anyway, one of the awesome things about being in London in 1994 was the open air markets. Not quite flea markets, but a definite cousin. More like Pike's Market in Seattle for those of you who have been. There was Covent Garden on Sundays, and Camden Towne just about any day of the week. In stalls that were often little more than folding tables, tarps, rope, and duct tape, you could find trendy (knockoff) fashions, the latest club-wear, jewelry, get your hair done, Doc Martens (literal cardboard fortresses made from those boxes), watches, electronics, and... bootleg CDs. %$#@! yeah.
This was before the world went whole hog on the interweb, and things like peer to peer file sharing and illegal downloads became so commonplace. You could find your vendor, and they'd have row upon row of CDs in their various trays and cases. And everything was in order. It may have been illegal, but dammit they had a business to run and they were professionals. So you'd find something that grabbed you, and they'd let you listen and preview it right there on the stereo they brought. Listening stations!
So you'd listen to a CD you were keen about. Maybe it was broadcast quality, something from the mixing desk, or maybe it sounds like it was recorded from the last row in the upperdeck. Maybe the whole show sounded awesome from start to finish. Or maybe it didn't, but there was a song from that one album you love that rarely gets played live, so you were only too happy to spend the money. A single disc would cost 15 - 20 pounds. You were spending a lot of money. But with labels like Kiss the Stone Records, Octopuss Records, amongst others, you usually got decent to really good cover art, track listings, and picture discs.
My cash pretty much went to beer, food, and bootleg CDs (coming home, landing in Dallas and getting those through customs scared the crap out of me more than it probably needed to).
One Sunday at Covent Garden I came across a really good Crowded House CD. It was from a show earlier in '94 at the Hammersmith theater in London. Really great show, broadcast quality.
Now you might be thinking, "Crowded House? Really?" Even though they only really charted with their first album here in the U.S., they continued to be successful internationally and making great albums. Plus Neil Finn, lead singer and songwriter of the band, has had a great run going back to his Split Enz days, albums with his brother Tim, as well as his solo stuff. So there's an impressive catalog.
Anyway, track 3 on this disc is supposed to be "Distant Sun" from their Together Alone album. But at this show, something happens at the intro of the song, causing the band to stop playing. Band techs come onstage, and the various band members start goofing off about what's going on.
In the course of all of this, Mark Hart, who had joined the band for that album and tour, is being teased by the other band members. All of a sudden he starts playing the opening notes of "Born on the Bayou", a true Fogerty classic. The rest of the band all kick into an awesome cover of the song. Its one of the reasons this disc was so good, and an example of why we pay money to see the bands we love, live and in person.
And then lo and behold, there's a youtube video with the audio in question.
And then lo and behold, there's a youtube video with the audio in question.
Don't ask me what the hell's going with this video, though.
Not long after this, Paul Hester, the band's drummer, would leave the band. In 1996, the band would reunite with Hester to play a massive farewell show outside of the Sydney Opera House. They would go their separate ways and Neil Finn would embark a solo career.
Best last song, ever?
Fans would hope for a reunion, but sadly in 2005, Paul Hester would commit suicide.
However, a few years later, Neil Finn started working on another solo album, but reached out to the surviving members of the band and decided to record a new Crowded House album, Time On Earth. They held auditions for a new drummer, and ended up bringing Matt Sherrod on board.
Jump to September 2007.
Nope. First, jump back to February 2003, aka Brush with Greatness Part 1.
Neil Finn's doing a solo show at the Fine Line. It's the first encore. I'm standing near the front of the stage when Neil asks us whether he should "Private Universe" or another tune, can't remember which one. I say, "Why not play them both?" He looks at me and says, "Are you insane? We couldn't possibly do that." And THAT was our first, and only, conversation.
Jump to July 2004, aka Brush with Greatness Part 2.
Neil and his brother, Tim, are touring as, yep, the Finn Brothers. I'm front row at the Guthrie, the REAL Guthrie, and show's over. They're walking around slapping and shaking hands and Neil comes by and shakes my hand. It was cool
Okay, NOW jump to September 2007, aka Brush with Greatness Part 3.
The reunited band is coming to Minneapolis to play the Orpheum. I go to the Orpheum box office the morning tickets go on sale and get second row tickets just off the center section. In other words, awesome seats.
My buddy Grant goes with me to see the show. That night we're walking to the theater, when I see Matt Sherrod, the new drummer, sitting out in front of the Orpheum having a smoke. People are all walking past him as if they have no idea who he is. I stop and go, "Hey Matt!" and shake his hand. He returns my greeting. I congratulate him on joining the band and his success and tell him I'm looking forward to the show. He grins, thanks me and I figure I'll just leave him alone now, because he just wanted to chill and have a smoke.
Great seats, great show. It's sold out. The place is going nuts for their return. Neil's son, Liam, opens the show as a one man band. Pretty cool. Pete Yorn comes on next, even better. And then the band finally hits the stage. People of course are yelling requests for their favorite Crowded House songs. I decide I'm going to do something quite the opposite.
About 1/3 of the way into the show, they complete a song, everybody yells, but then the place goes absolutely quiet. Now's my chance. I stand up on my chair, look over at Mark Hart, who's on the left side of the stage, and say, "Hey Mark! How 'bout a little Born on the Bayou!" He looks over at me, right at me! He looks over at me and gets a big grin on his face. Neil Finn looks at me, looks at Mark Hart, and says, "We can do that." YES!!! But then Mark just replies, "We'll do it later." GUH! Fail!
They're not going to play it. I know he said they would, but there's no way they're going to re-work the whole setlist/show based on my suggestion. But I take it as a moral victory. I connected with the band for a few seconds, and the leader of the band was ready to give me what I wanted. Glass is half-full.
I still hold out hope, though. But by the end of the first part of the show and the beginning of the encore, I knew they were not going to do it. Leaned over to Grant and told him, "They're not going to do it."
But then a couple of songs into the encore, Mark starts playing those familiar notes. HOLY CRAP!! They did it! I can't believe it! They actually did it. It was an abbreviated version, but they played "Born on the Bayou." I changed the show! Holy F'ing Crap. Greatest. Concert. Moment. Ever. Victory is mine!
Jump ahead 4 1/2 years.
The Crowded House Facebook page announces that they're selling a 3 disc collection of the best stuff from their 2010 North American tour. Of course I buy it. But in the course of finding that, I discover there's a website called crowdedhouselive.com, where you can purchase and DL other live shows. I see they have shows not only from 2010, but 2007. They have the shows I was at. So yeah, I buy those, and two others.
As soon as the Mpls Orpheum show is DL'd, I proceed to look for the golden moment.
Find it. At the end of the 10th song of the night, "Don't Dream it's Over." It's not exactly silent in the place, they way I remember it. People are yelling their requests. But it's definite pause in the set, my gut tells me this is my chance.
And I yell, "Mark play Born on the Bayou!!" Nope, not exactly a friendly suggestion. It was pretty rushed, as I apparently feared someone would shout their suggestion over mine. In fact, by calling him out by name, as if we have a vibe, I risked being mocked and ridiculed for sounding like a complete douche.
But a funny thing happened,somebody else yelled, "Yeah, Born on the Bayouuuu!!" Now, maybe they understood the reference, or maybe they were just hammered and ready to support anyone's idea. But, they supported mine. And Neil Finn actually said, "Can if you want Mark. There's a genuine request from the audience tonight." So Neil double affirmed me.
It's also entirely possible, if not likely, that neither one of them looked at or saw me, because of the lights, and were only looking in my general direction. But in my mind, they saw me.
This version of Born on the Bayou wasn't as good as the '94 version, but the point is they did it, and they meant it. And that was awesome. And now I have a recording of it. It has been captured and saved for posterity. And it deserves to be the "Oh no, is he telling the 'Born on the Bayou' story again?" story.
