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On September 2nd, 1983 I attended my second-ever concert, the Lydia Taylor Band opening for Toronto at the Moncton Coliseum.
This was just two weeks after my first show – a Loverboy concert here in the same arena – and the fresh concert-buzz hadn’t even begun to wear off. I was still riding the thrill of that life-changing inaugural evening when I ran past the ticket-tearer and flew down the Coliseum stairs to grab a spot on the rail. I had spent the day shaking with excitement; by the time the arena’s lights went down I could barely contain myself.
You’ll be forgiven if you don’t remember Lydia Taylor or her short-lived almost-hit Bitch that was probably more notable for its racy title (for the time) than its cheesy guitar riffs. All I remember from her set was seeing the band big and close from my prominent spot on the floor and screaming my head off the whole time with my fists raised and rockin’.
Toronto on the other hand should be a much more memorable band, particularly if you were Canadian and teen-aged in the ’80’s. Get It On Credit, Your Daddy Don’t Know, Girls Night Out, Start Tellin’ The Truth, Looking For Trouble; c’mon now, some of those titles must be ringing a bell. Personally I bet I could still lip-sync every word to all of them.
Just like at the Loverboy show I once again found myself in a youthful rock nirvana. The power of hearing live instruments, the screaming, packed-in GA crowd, the lights, the sweat…Though it was still very new to me I could sense that this was my element. Every time the band played a song I knew I would look at them up there on the stage and shake my head in wonder that I should find myself in the presence of such gods. I couldn’t believe I was seeing actual, real-live rock stars before my very eyes.
And all of this at a Toronto concert. Crazy.
As the last note faded away and the house lights came on I stood emotionally spent. The Loverboy concert was not a one-off feeling that I had experienced, that much was now clear. This concert thing was definitely for me and something I knew I was going to do forever.
It had taken me a lifetime at fifteen and-a-half years, but I had finally found somewhere that I truly belonged.
(I would be remiss if I didn’t add that near the end of the concert the band revealed that lead singer Holly Woods was performing in a cast that ran from her right foot all the way up to her hip, having badly broken her leg just a week or two earlier.)
Todd Man Out 