Your Least Favorite TD Live Experience
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Your Least Favorite TD Live Experience
Back in 1992, Tangerine Dream had their last major tour of the U. S. The 1986 tour had convinced me that it was a serious mistake to fail to see as many shows as possible when they came to the U. S. This tour was going to hit some smaller venues and it seemed like a good opportunity to see the band in some very intimate settings. I went to 4 shows on the tour, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Juan Capistrano, and Ventura. San Juan Capistrano is a small beach town South of Los Angeles and Ventura is a small beach town just North of Los Angeles. Both of these shows would be at small clubs. The San Juan Capistrano show was going to be the smallest club of the tour, a place called the Coach House. I think it held only a couple of hundred seats. So I really looked forward to this show as a really good chance to view the band up close and personal.
I arrived in Los Angeles by plane the day of the show. I was picked up at the airport by my mom, who was going to the show with me. Yep, my mom, currently 81, is a TD fan and saw them with me in 1977 at the Santa Monica Civic (she couldn’t make the Royce Hall show for health reasons). I had seen the band the prior night in San Francisco and they were great. The tickets I had purchased for the show included dinner. I did this because it was indicated that people who bought the seats that included dinner got the best seats. As we waited outside the club we could hear the band doing their sound check. Then the door opened and out came the band, Edgar at the front looking quite buoyant, and they quickly loaded into a van to go to dinner.
After a while the crowd was let in the club and seated by the staff. This was where things started to go wrong. Seating was at long tables and our seats were close to the stage but kind of off to the side so the view was a bit obstructed. During the show we would be able to see Jerome and Zlatko very well, but we would not be able to see Edgar very well at all (except when he played guitar). Back in those days it was ok to smoke at clubs like the Coach House. Two of our table mates were heavy smokers and smoked all through dinner. At one point they started chatting with a waitress who also smoked. Perhaps because they were also drinking, during the course of the meal these guys must have smoked at least a pack of cigarettes each. I was having trouble breathing and my mom was choking. Another guy and his date arrived and she was really intoxicated and talking to him in a very loud voice. I don’t remember much about the meal, but really I wasn’t expecting much and I wasn’t disappointed. Anyway who could enjoy food with all that smoking? Finally, the show started. Our smoking “friends” ran out of cigs so that was good news. The bad news was our intoxicated female “friend” decided that she wanted to “talk” to her boyfriend throughout the show. Did I say “talk”? In order to be heard she screamed in his ear, no kidding, nearly the entire show. No amount of “hard” looks could get her to stop. Her boyfriend was kind of a big guy and I was afraid that if I told her to shut up he would feel compelled to defend her honor. About 3/4 of the way through the show I could stand it no longer. I said we came a long way to hear the band play and could she please stop “talking” so we could enjoy the concert. She gave me this shocked ‘how could you offend me so” look and her boyfriend tensed up and kind of clenched his fist. “Uh, oh”, I thought, But then he relaxed his body and just kind of shrugged. I could almost hear him thinking, “yeah, I get what you're saying. I wish she would shut up too”. At the end of the show the band played Purple Haze, and some people went to an open corner of the club and danced to it. The woman dragged her boyfriend and danced with him. As she danced she stared at me, giving me a really hard look the entire time. It was like she was silently saying in a haughty voice “look at me, I know how to have a good time”.
The only good memory I have of the show was when Edgar played his solo. He was quite close, our female “friend" had finally stopped shouting, and it was very exciting to see and hear him playing guitar at such a close view. He had that white guitar with a beautiful guitar strap with a Southwest Indian design. Just so cool.
After the show we made the long drive home reeking of cigarette smoke. The other 3 shows I saw were excellent., and I’m sorry I didn’t see them in Portland and Seattle.