by Shawn Bison

I thought it wise to deny a visit to Vienna by trading in my flight tickets for a ticket from London to Poland next week. After all, it would be the only Vertigo show on this leg that I'd be missing AND I could spend a couple of extra days exploring the wonderful town of London. Oh, and I could check out Live 8.

Pardon my lead-in to Live 8. It was an underwhelming one, I know. But that's what the day was for me, underwhelming. However underwhelming, the 10 hour gig had hints of absoulte brilliance. The bands didn't flow into one another, because that's nearly impossible for a show like this to achieve. I watched some of MTV's coverage upon retuning to my hotel room at about 4AM, and they couldn't get it right. They didn't even try. It was pathetic. I even sampled some of AOL's FULL (and boy, do I mean FULL) coverage of every Live 8 show across the globe, and even that was just too much to handle. The only way to experience the best line-up for Live 8 (London) was to be there.

Now, by best line-up, I obviously mean the most popular bands, and of course, the legends. I managed to get a pretty good spot near the front, and was able to hear and see everything nicely. U2 and Paul performed a two and a half minute version of "Sgt. Pepper's" that will forever be a part of my growing list of greatest concert moments of all time. It was just excellent. Our boys then pulled off a solid three-tune set, with "Vertigo" always championing as the highlight. What a way to milk that song for almost a year, huh? I still don't get sick of it. Uno, dos, tres, banana!...

The rest of the day I waited laborously for other hints of brilliance. And they came - but only in spurts. I'd never seen Coldplay live and they were just as polished as expected. Their collaboration with Richard Ashcroft was swell, but couldn't get me to that goosebump level. I enjoyed Elton John a whole hell of a lot, and I always appreciate the fact that he still plays with about 80% of his old sevnties bandmates - all of whom are solid as a Stonehenge rock.

I'd say the next five hours or so were somewhat amusing, entertaining, and acceptable. I was merely waiting for the darkness, the lights, the big show. I was waiting for the legends to take the stage. The old guys, the wheelchair rockers. People can inexplicably comment about age and rock and roll - but I will always hold firm that rockers get better with age. Even if they are fat, lazy, delusional, rich, and losing their hair.

The first order of business was Velvet Revolver. Now it wasn't exactly dark and they're not exactly old, but Velvet is one of the best hard rock outfits to surface in a long time. Many thanks to former Guns and Weiland, of course. It was nice to see a live Slash again, ever since that horrific Giants Stadium Guns show I attended in 1992. After that a couple of duds, but then Sting played a rousing rendition of "Driven To Tears," one of the greatest Police songs ever written. Of course, The Who were magnificent, but uninspiring. I've seen them do that all before.

This leads me to the most anticipated act of the evening... Pink Floyd. The "classic lineup" of Floyd was a little before my time, so I was only fortunate enough to see the 1994 incarnation (Division Bell). Even back then, I was mildly impressed... I always thought the Gilmour-lead era of Floyd was just to safe, and not nearly as raw as the glorious seventies. When Waters, Gilmour, Mason, and Wright plowed ferociously through their four-song set, I daydreamed at the notion of them never splitting up. What was it that caused that rift between Waters and Gilmour all those years ago? No ego trip is worth the break up of such a brilliant rock band. Their playing was flawless and with precision and brought tears to my eyes. I was glad to be there.

This was an important event and I felt I needed to forgo the Vienna show. I was right in my decision. See you at the Zoo Station.

Achtung y'all.

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