Kelly, Kelly, Kelly.
I have to admit, I was worried. I spent the six hours leading up to your concert with my head in a toilet thinking that I had entirely blown my chances of getting to rock out with you after waiting six years and flying across a continent. But holy shit, did I ever man up and holy shit, did you ever rock it.
Many dry-heaves and a deep-fried cheese on a stick in your honour later (American Fair food is grotesquely awesome – remind me to tell you about the chicken breast sandwiched in two chocolate chip cookies with strawberry jam…), I was finally able to pull the hungover mess formerly known as Ben Boudreau together enough to realize that I was going to see. you. live.
I may have peeed.
Peed? Peeed? Pee-d? P’d?
Anyone able to confirm the past tense verbage of pee?
I have to admit, we got a little too excited too when we realized we had a private table with full waitstaff on the terrace overlooking the stage. It was all a little too VIP to handle but we handled it – don’t you worry. And Kelly, don’t take this the wrong way but experiencing your concert while eating beer battered onion rings and drinking wine?
TOTALLY THE WAY TO DO IT.
My camera died half a song in – which as it turns out is because we took 29830 group shots at the bar the night before of which I remember about four - but luckily folks in the front row picked up the slack and YouTubed it by morning.
Awesome that I can past-tensify YouTube but not pee, right?
LITERACY FAIL.
In an hour and a half you were able to show just how many killer songs you’ve had to the point where I almost couldn’t keep track. Add in some Rod Stewart, Janet Jackson and Patsy Cline covers (see below), not to mention remixing some of your own with Black Sabbath and the Eurythmics (I died and went to heaven), it was the most diverse concert I’ve ever experienced.
I love that you forgot a line in one of your newer songs and said “Oh c’mon. It’s new! You guys don’t know it either!”. I love that you described an unexpected song choice on the new album as a “big middle finger to your record label”. I love that you didn’t think before you spoke, making you a real person in addition to a seasoned performer. I love that you bragged about your big ass. I love that you sang so hard you probably couldn’t speak after it was all over.
Don’t think I’m waiting six years until the next time, Kelly. You’re stuck with me now.
{ 1 trackback }