My Favorite Concerts

I saw Jeff Buckley play Luna Park in Los Angeles in 1994.

There’s nothing like live music. Hearing a band you love among thousands of strangers is like discovering your extended family. You feel goosebumps and sing along until you’re hoarse then scream for the encore to thrust you into a state of ecstasy.

Music is an integral part of my life. Some of my greatest memories are from concerts all over the world. My first live show was Cheap Trick at the Los Angeles Forum in 1979. I was a drummer and hearing Bun E. Carlos play the opening beat to “I Want You to Want Me” had me dancing with strangers until sweat poured off my skin.

Concerts cement friendships. I’ve experienced so many great shows with friends, it’s hard to pick a favorite. Here are some concerts that stood out for various reasons. I’ve included entries from friends about their favorite concerts as well.

Jeff Buckley at Luna Park, 1994 (LK): My friend Jason Luckett was playing Luna Park, a tiny club in West Hollywood. I promised to attend though I was sick as a dog. Hopped up on Nyquil, I watched Jason’s set then prepared to go home. He said ten words that would change my life. “You might want to stay to see this next performer.” That’s how I first heard Jeff Buckley. It was the only time I encountered a musician able to quiet a rude LA crowd through the power of his music. Buckley’s electric guitar was reminiscent of Jimmy Paige while his singing evoked the soulful falsetto of Sam Cooke. When he sang his showstopping version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” I felt as if I’d discovered Jesus. This was the first of two Buckley concerts I attended before his tragic 1997 drowning death in the Mississippi River. He was only thirty years old. His Luna Park show remains my favorite concert of all time.

Peter Gabriel at the Los Angeles Forum, 1986 (LK): Peter Gabriel helped me survive my teen years. His song “Wallflower” was my anthem for surviving depression and maintaining hope that my life would get better. (“Let your spirit stay unbroken, may you not be deterred.”) The highlight of every Gabriel show was when he sang “Lay Your Hands on Me” then fell back into the crowd and let them pass him around the arena. This showed a faith and connection with fans I’ve never seen anywhere else.

[embed]Peter Gabriel playing “Lay Your Hands on Me” live in Athens. (1987)

Sinead O’Connor at the Wiltern Theater, 1988 (LK): This was the first Los Angeles performance of the Irish chanteuse Sinead O’Connor. Performing songs from her debut album The Lion and the Cobra, I attended the show with my best friend Lee. Sinead did not disappoint. Though small and waifish, she had a spiritual power and magnetism that hypnotized the crowd. Halfway through the show, I recognized her saxophone player as my college buddy Dave Koz. This allowed Lee and I to go backstage after the show and meet Sinead in person. She was shy and aloof and eschewed conversation. I told her how much I admired her music and how thankful I was to experience her show. Her bashful smile made my heart melt. The day she died in 2023 at age 56 remains one of the saddest days of my life.

Queen at the Los Angeles Forum, 1977. (Entry by Javier Winnik, Television Producer): My greatest concert experience was my first concert. I was 15 years old, and my older cousins invited me and my brother to see Queen at The Fabulous Forum in Inglewood, California. The year was 1977, and I’m still in disbelief that my mother allowed me to go. We had seats in the very last row. I could touch the back wall of the arena. The show started, and I was overwhelmed. Lights, stage smoke, Freddie Mercury’s extraordinary voice and, for the first time in my life, I was exposed to endless amounts of second-hand weed smoke. Being in the last row, it felt like all the smoke was wafting towards us. I’m pretty sure I was high as hell, and I’m absolutely sure that I loved the concert.

Phil Collins at the Irvine Meadows Ampitheater, 1985 (LK): Say what you will about the AM radio musical blather of Phil Collins, he rocked as a drummer. The highlight of every Collins show was his duet with fellow percussionist Chester Thompson. I memorized his jam to “In the Air Tonight” and like everyone else in the crowd, I air drummed my ass off. Admittedly it was tough getting through sappy songs like “Against All Odds” and “One More Night.” But Collins repertoire included gems like “I Don’t Care Anymore,” “Take Me Home” and the Genesis classic “Home By the Sea.” I miss the days of concert drum solos and Phil Collins was the master.

[embed]A classic drum duet between Phil Collins and Chester Thompson (1984).

Paul Oakenfold at Le Pulp in Paris, 2002 (Entry by Joe Forte, artist and filmmaker/joeforte.com): In the summer of 2002 our friend offered my wife and I their apartment in Paris while they traveled. We were trying to get pregnant and kept having miscarriages and work was a struggle, so we jumped at the chance. For the trip, we bought an early digital camera, a Canon Elph. In our second week our friend David (pronounced Dav-eeed) asked if we wanted to go a club called Le Pulp. Paul Oakenfeld, the celebrated DJ, would be spinning. Like most “concerts” this night would involve music, drugs and a lot of dancing. What made it special was the Elph. At the time few knew what that was, unassuming and palm sized. As we danced I slid past people, pausing for effect and FLASH, I’d take their photo in full groove, the camera making me bold. I showed it to them, virgin technology and a memory in an Instant, the ubiquitous phone camera still many years away. Soon everyone wanted one. The night ended as they do. Espresso and croissants at dawn, then the sweet parting with “Daveeed, that was amazing!” It was a great trip. And when we got back to the US, whatever stress may have contributed to the miscarriages was gone. We were pregnant. And with our first child arriving the following summer, we were dancing and photographing ourselves all over again.

Joe Forte (on right) and friends captured by his Canon Elph digital camera. (Photo courtesy of Joe Forte)

The Pogues at the Wiltern Theater, 1991 (Entry by Conrad Romo, writer): What will always stand out as my most memorable show was seeing the Pogues at the Wiltern in 1991. I say most memorable because it was a night I feared I was going to die. I’d seen the Pogues in ’86 when Shane MacGowan was front and center and it was a raucous outdoor event at the John Anson Ford Theater. The ’91 concert had Joe Strummer filling in for Shane. I didn’t know it at the time, but Shane had recently been fired from The Pogues during a tour in Japan and apparently took it well saying, “What took you so long?”

Though I loved Shane, I wasn’t disappointed. The band played a blend of Pogues classics, covers, and Clash songs, including “If I Should Fall From Grace With God,” “London Calling,” and “Straight to Hell”. The show started on a high note and kept building song after song. I had front row balcony seats with unobstructed views and the ability to stretch my feet on the low wall. The audience seemed to all be on their feet jumping and dancing. Now on the ground this was one thing but the balcony was another thing. The Wiltern is a beautiful deco building built in 1934 and I don’t know if it had ever had such a lively crowd. I literally was being bounced out of my seat over and over again. The whole balcony was shifting up and down. As a native Angeleno I’ve experienced several earthquakes and they’re scary but they only last a matter of a few seconds while this did not let up. As the years have passed I’ve questioned my memory. Could it have really been that bad?

In August 2016 I had the pleasure of hosting a reading at the Hotel Cafe in Hollywood and one of the writers was James Fearnley, the former accordionist of the Pogues. That night he read from his book Here Comes Everybody. Afterward, I told him about my memory of the show at the Wiltern and he said, “Yeah some friends of mine were up in the balcony and they were scared shitless they were going to die too.”

PJ Harvey at the Wiltern Theater, 2004 (LK): This is the first concert I ever attended with my girlfriend at the time. She was a huge PJ Harvey fan and we braved the mosh pit to get within several feet of the stunning Miss Polly Jean Harvey. Halfway through the show, an aggressive punk rock girl slam danced into me. She hit me at such high velocity she knocked me to the ground. I got up and she hit me again. As she was about to strike a third time, my girlfriend intervened. She lifted the punk girl off the ground and tossed her to the side. This was a moment I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with my girlfriend. A few years later this wonderful woman became my wife.

Depeche Mode at Jones Beach Theater in New York, 1994. (Entry by Peter Honig, Business Owner): In June 1994, Depeche mode headlined the Jones Beach Theater while Stabbing Westward opened for them. The Stabbing Westward drummer was a good friend and comped us backstage passes. I wandered around backstage during the Depeche Mode set. I didn’t see anyone else until we discovered a door slightly ajar. I opened it and found a large room where 6–8 people hovered around a tiny black and white television set propped on a crappy old chair. One of the guys was Robert Smith from the Cure. I was curious to see what they were watching so I walked closer. It was the OJ freeway chase.

Dead Can Dance at the Mayfair Theater, 1993 (LK): In 1993, I attended a screening of the documentary film Baraka. Afterwards, the film’s producer Mark Magidson told me his next project was a documentary about the band Dead Can Dance. This was my favorite band at the time and I told him I’d do anything to work on the movie. Several weeks later, me and my best friend Lee were stage hands at the Mayfair Theater in Santa Monica helping record a concert that was memorialized in the “Toward the Within” live album.

We met the band members including lead singers Brendan Perry and Lisa Gerard. There was clear tension between them (they were once a couple) and they barely spoke with each other. Once the music started, they channeled the medieval rock renaissance energy that helped pioneer the neoclassical darkwave genre. Their live version of the song “Cantara” remains one of the greatest concert moments I’ve ever experienced.

[embed]Dead Can Dance “Cantara” recorded at the Mayfair Theater in 1993.

Pink Floyd at the Los Angeles Sports Arena, 1980 (Entry by Lee Montgomery, realtor/actor): On November 30, 1979, just after my 28th birthday, Pink Floyd released their master concept album The Wall. As a musician and actor, I had long wanted to do a concept album in the style of the “Lamb Lies Down on Broadway.” I had a strong desire to do something with music that was more theatrical and cinematic. When I first sat down and listened to The Wall, I was blown away. Transported into a world of nostalgia , fantasy, rock superstardom and mental breakdown. In 1980 I was privileged to see the live concert version of the album at the LA Sports Arena. It did not disappoint. It was one of the most amazing pieces of art I’ve ever witnessed. The concert was a spectacle incorporating theater, music, and amazing visuals, both physical on stage and with animation. A scale version of a World War II bomber appeared from the back of the stadium and crashed into the stage. I’ll never forget how there was a twenty minute intermission once the wall was built physically on stage. People chatted amongst themselves like they were at a Broadway play. There was a sense of reverence and respect as was my experience after the listening to the album first for the first time, I found myself unable to speak for almost a full day. In 1982, Alan Parker’s movie version of the album was released. I was aware that I was witnessing a monumental contribution to the world of art. From album to concert to film.

Radiohead at the Hollywood Bowl, 2001 (LK): Two elements made this show memorable. One, the opening band was Beta Band and they were frickin’ amazing. Two, I smoked weed for the first time in fifteen years. This transported me from “sucking on a lemon” to “everything in its right place.” This was the Amnesiac tour and songs included “Knives Out,” “Like Spinning Plates” and “Packt like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box.” Thom Yorke thrashed on stage like a ’70s punk rocker singing each song as if his life depended on it. Though he famously despised singing tunes from OK Computer and The Bends, the setlist included “Karma Police,” “Street Spirit,” “No Surprises” and “Fake Plastic Trees.” (He rarely sings “Creep.”) The post-concert stroll down Highland Avenue to the parking lot on Franklin Avenue felt like I was walking on air.

Led Zeppelin at the Los Angeles Forum, 1977 (Entry by Kevin Stofer Smith, filmmaker and poet): I first saw Led Zeppelin in 1973 for their Houses of The Holy tour then again in 1975 for their Physical Graffiti tour. However, my favorite Led Zeppelin show came two years later, June 1977, back at the Forum. I went to the opening night and closing night of a six-show run. I photographed both nights. I ran out of film on the final night but not before capturing incredible images. As the encore started John Bonham came out alone and started the solo drums to the legendary instrumental “Moby Dick” from Led Zeppelin II. He stopped playing and introduced, to his left, Keith Moon of The Who. Moon came out with a tambourine and got on the bongos next to Bonham. The original track was just over four minutes but Bonham always did it for a minimum of 15–20 minutes in concert. Moon got on Bonzo’s tympani drum set next, as the drumming continued between the two of them. It was 100% mind boggling. To this kid, it was spiritual. After what seemed like an eternity, the rest of the Band joined them and did a closing encore of “Rock and Roll.”

The show ended and the audience didn’t move for what felt like a long time. I remember the show intimately but not who I was with. What I do recall was the following weeks, months and years as I often declared it as my Favorite Concert Ever. FYI, it was the last time Keith Moon played live in Los Angeles as well as his last American public appearance. It was also the final show ever played by Led Zeppelin in Los Angeles.

The following year, in September 1978, Keith Moon accidentally overdosed. Two years later, 1980, also in September, John “Bonzo” Bonham drank himself to death. They were both 32 years of age as they left this mortal coil. To this day, both men are known, by far, as two of the greatest drummers that ever lived.

Led Zeppelin at the Los Angeles Forum, 1977. (Photo courtesy of Kevin Stofer Smith.)

Johnny Cash at the Viper Room, 1993 (Entry by Josh Richman, film and television producer): In late summer 1993, after a slew of incredible impromptu live performances, the recently opened Viper Room was set to house what would become the most iconic performance of all. The newly minted venue on the Sunset Strip was now owned and operated by dear friends of mine and shortly after its christening, another comrade, Rick Rubin, saw this tiny but hallowed hall as a perfect place to debut some songs for his newest, but as yet unheard, collaboration.

The collaborator…none other than Johnny Cash.

Rubin had given me an early copy of “American Recordings” so I was one of the few in the audience already familiar with these ‘about to be’ classics.

Early on that December 3 show day, Cash’s soundcheck gave me and my Viper Room impresario lifelong Gemini brother Johnny Depp, the first chance to glimpse and listen to “the Man.” He was now a 90s version of himself, in his 70s, a monolithic idol to any human who has ever cared about rock n roll.

We coyly huddled in the private room in back as all the plunking, truncated strums and baritone “checks” coalesced into “Ghost Riders In The Sky.” We melted into giddy grizzled Christmas morning-like kids. I was so bugged out, I called my answering machine from the wall phone to record this in case the world ended in the ensuing minutes.

Later that night, the lure of the show had the entire music universe and Hollywood abuzz. Everyone wanted to procure entry into the nascent, tiny club where, unbeknownst to any of us, something that hadn’t happened in over 20 years was about to take place. Rubin would record it for posterity and those of us who traversed down Larrabee Street and, once inside, up the twisting stairwell found our tables scrunched together on the floor.

Cash had languished for years in a labyrinth of disrepair, both personally and creatively. In a few months time, he would see a revitalization and honor bestowed upon him as songs like “Hurt” (cover of Nine Inch Nails) and “Delia” (whose iconic video featured Kate Moss) played that night, amidst a smattering of his own classics.

That fabled night would find a nervous, humbled “John” grand and powerful. Heavy and light. Grateful and inspired.

Like every one of us in that building.

The lights dimmed, clamor hushed and with a diminutive intro by Depp, history was about to unearth a frequency and gravity long forgotten but oh so graciously welcomed…and needed.

Johnny Cash, himself.

Acoustic guitar.

Microphone.

Barstool.

Nothing else required.