Concert, Elton John, Elvis Presley, Fenway Park, first time, Five Seconds Of Summer, Jimi Hendrix, Madison Square Garden, Paul McCartney, Rick Springfield, Roberta Flack, Roy Orbison, The Monkees, Tommy James

1. You Never Forget
Your First Concert
“So what was the first concert you attended?” It’s a
question I’ve been asked, and posed to others many
times as a conversation starter. It has helped to ease
awkward first dates, lunch gatherings in new
communities, and extended car trips with strangers.
It even once came up as an icebreaker on a job
interview.

2. If you are fortunate enough to have seen a
“brand-name” for your first show, well, the answer
should roll right off your tongue with the greatest of
pride. For others, the occasional, long forgotten
flash-in-the-pan performer can provoke big laughs,
or at least help others to pinpoint your approximate
age. And then there is that third category: Those
who were brought to their first show by their
parents, or older siblings, long before they knew
who their favorite artists would be.
In my novel, Poet Of The Wrong Generation,
my protagonist, Johnny Elias emerges on the pop
music scene as an overnight superstar. He quickly
finds himself performing concerts across America.
On the long bus-rides between cities, he and his
bandmates fill the hours by recounting their first
concert-going experiences and favorite musical
memories of yesteryear.
For just about everyone, the details of your first
concert probably stick in your memory like it was
yesterday. Where was the show? Who did you go
with? Where were your seats? What songs were
played? How late did you get home?

3. My wife remembers
going with her parents to see Roberta Flack at
Ontario Place theme park in Toronto as a teenager.
My friend, Rachel, proudly describes seeing Rick
Springfield with a group of screeching girlfriends
back in 1983. My mom recalls seeing Tommy James
and the Shondells play a few hits at her high-school
prom in New Brunswick, NJ in 1967. For my friend,
Harriet, it was Jimi Hendrix opening for the Monkees
(and being booed off stage) at Forrest Hills Tennis
Center. And my college radio co-host, Ron Rudaitis
vaguely remembers being taken to Nassau Coliseum
by his parents back in 1975. He was four at the time,
but he has fuzzy recollections of a man in a white
jumpsuit adorned with glittery rhinestones

4. singing Jailhouse Rock andLove Me Tender. Elvis
Aaron Presley!
For me, I happen to have two answers to the
first-concert question. Thankfully, both artists are
all-time legends.
I separate my first concert experiences into
two categories because of the circumstances. There
are concerts that you pay to see with assigned
seating. And then there are bonus events, where a
star performer just happens to be playing in an
unlikely venue that you stumble upon. The latter is
my first concert memory – and it is a doozy!
It was August of 1982. I
was eleven. My parents had taken my brothers and
me to Six Flags Great Adventure in Jackson, NJ. This
was in the week after summer camp had ended, just
before the start of the school year. We had spent a
superlative day riding roller coasters, log flumes and
bumper cars under scorching sunshine. Then
nightfall arrived. We were all looking forward to the
grand finale -- the fireworks extravaganza. But there

5. was still time between our dinner break and the
shimmering sendoff.
I am certain that my parents were entirely
unaware as to what performance would be taking
place that evening on the stage by the lake. There
was no particular hype or anticipation. We simply
found an empty row in the metal bleachers of the
half-round theater awaiting a musical performance. I
distinctly remember the relief of resting my tired
feet after a day of standing in long lines.
And then it happened. The overhead lights
dimmed. A center spotlight shone upon the stage.
And a group of musicians emerged from behind a
backdrop. That’s when the loud cheering began. I
can’t recall if the artist was introduced over the PA
system. But at age 11, I very much doubt that I
would have known Roy Orbison by name.
I have vivid childhood memories of sitting in the
backseat of my father’s car, listening to his 8-track
tapes, and whatever songs he had playing on the
radio. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was truly
blessed to have been exposed to the best pop music
ever made – that of the 1950s and 60s - over the
airwaves of New York’s oldies station, WCBS-FM.

6. Roy Orbison dressed in black and wore his
trademark dark sunglasses. It wasn’t a full-length
concert, but rather a mini-show in which he
performed about ten of his classic hits. His uncanny
operatic voice was in fine form. He belted out the
high-notes on Running Scared, Only The
Lonely and Crying. I knew most of these tunes from
the radio, which made this experience all the more
satisfying. The roar of the crowd after each song
only further validated my appreciation for Mr.
Orbison’s massive talent.

7. I can’t recall any details of the fireworks show
that night, or whether I fell asleep on the long car
ride home. But I will never forget the thrill of being
in the audience of perhaps the greatest male
vocalist of the pop music era for what turned out to
be my initial concert experience.
Fast forward to October of 1988. I was a
senior in high school. My independence had evolved,
as had my musical tastes. Friends of mine were
getting their driver’s licenses, earning money with
summer jobs… and saving up to attend concerts.
These were the days when buying tickets required
you to visit the arena box office, or to call in an
order by phone with Ticketmaster.

8. I had
wanted to attend a variety of shows over the prior
months. U2’s concert at Giant Stadium in ‘87 sold
out in minutes. An REM show at Madison Square
Garden had only single scattered seats by the time I
got through on constant re-dial to a Ticketmaster
operator. Going alone was hardly an option. I’d even
attempted to buy tickets from a scalper to a sold-out
concert by The Cars at MSG, only to realize that
scalping required far more cash than I had to my
name.
Elton John had long been a favorite of mine.
His string of radio hits stretched back to 1970, the
year I was born. It was hard to recall any year to
that point in which there wasn’t an Elton John tune
somewhere in the top-40.

9. I’d
long heard about Elton’s flamboyant performances
that accompanied his catalog of hits. There was his
rendition of Crocodile Rock on theMuppet Show that
first caught my eye. He was covered in colorful
feathers, wearing a pair of orange glasses and a
rhinestone studded shower cap. Then came his 1980
concert in Central Park – the one in which he played
piano in a full Donald Duck costume.
A handful of my high school classmates were
hard-core fans of the British hit maker. Kenny,
Robert and Scott had twice been to see him at the
old Spectrum arena in Philadelphia. They spoke of
his shows as the pinnacle of musical entertainment.
My curiosity was piqued.
I remember the night I stood in line on
8th
Avenue, outside Madison Square Garden with my
schoolmates, hoping for a shot at a ticket. It was
hours before we reached the box office window.
Most unfortunately, the show we were aiming for
was sold out by the time we got to the front of the

10. line. However, to our great satisfaction, a second
and a third show had just been added. We were in!
Just $25 for a seat in the 300-level, facing directly
at the center of the stage for the Thursday night
show. A massive bargain by today’s inflated
standards.
October of ’88 was something of a comeback for
Elton John. He’d recently sold off most of his old
costumes, and overcome a recent throat surgery. His
then-recent concert album Live In Australia was a
return to playing his earlier, classic material. In fact,
the first eight songs he sung at the Garden that night
were straight from that track-list.

11. There weren’t many outrageous wardrobe
changes that I can recall. But from the moment he
hit the stage, until the final encore, it was his
remarkable showmanship and virtuoso piano playing
that had the crowd howling for more. Altogether,
twenty four hits were performed, of which we and
some 18,000 others all seemed to know the words
to. So much energy in the building that night. Our
throats were sore from screaming and our hands
from constant high-fives. It was absolute magic.
These days I’m the dad of two daughters, one a
teenager and the other a 4th
grader. Eventually, I
knew the day would arrive when I’d be asked to
bring them to their first live show. Given my first-
concert pedigree, well, I knew I’d have to make it a
good one. For Amber, our older daughter, we picked
the biggest living legend of all. Paul McCartney. 2009

12. at Boston’s Fenway Park. Her second live show was
the first for our younger daughter, Casey. They
dragged us to Jones Beach last September for a
teenage shriek-fest by an Aussie boy-band called
Five Seconds Of Summer. A flash in the pan? Only
time will tell. But no matter the performer, one
thing is for certain: For my girls, just like for me,
the memories of that first show will never fade. In
fact, they only get more legendary with time and
perspective.
Poet Of The Wrong Generation by Lonnie Ostrow is
now available on AMAZON in paperback and eBook
format.