I was a pretty big fan of the band Live back in high school, but then, basically everyone was. Throwing Copper sold eight million copies, and you couldnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t turn on MTV or the radio without hearing Ã¢â‚¬Å“Lightning CrashesÃ¢â‚¬Â or Ã¢â‚¬Å“I Alone.Ã¢â‚¬Â I went to four excellent Live concerts in college, and the crowds were universally jam-packed.
Two summers ago, a full decade after LiveÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s popularity began to wane, I caught wind of a free outdoor show by former lead singer Ed Kowalczyk in the parking lot behind City Winery in New York. My high school friends and I discovered a somewhat different dynamic than what we had been used to, with Ed K. playing Live songs and new solo material in the oppressive heat of a 90-degree afternoon in front of a couple dozen nostalgia-seekers.
At first, I found the scene bittersweet in that the enormous popularity of a band I loved had been distilled down to a very small group at a show that cost nothing to attend.
But the music was wonderful as always. I came face-to-face with a lot of memories; Live had, after all, been my first concert as a freshman in college. I was finally able to meet Kowalczyk.
And there was something pretty great about sharing the afternoon solely with true die-hards who had bothered to stick around long after LiveÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s last spin on contemporary rock radio.