Review and photographs by Jason Spiro
Dave Mason’s concert at The Egg on Saturday night was preceded by a slideshow of images, archival photographs that illustrated Mason’s long and storied history in the field of rock, blues, etc. A soundtrack played along with the images, that sounded not unlike modern remixes and covers of classic rock, but were more likely Mason’s originals of his oft-covered songs.
The show was advertised to begin at 7:30pm, and so began promptly at 7:48, perhaps to allow this crowd time to amble in – with scents of patchouli nearly ever-present, one loyal service dog for the aged, and much greying of hair progressed far beyond mere temples or sideburns – but more probably in deference to time honored tradition of holding the show. Yes, a polite crowd, with a few rabble rousers, but mostly quiet and not prone to dance, even upon urging from the band. But at least they weren’t supine.
I kid, of course, because I was in awe of the band, and thus I respect anyone who braved the cold and took advantage of the opportunity to see a bit of rock history played out memorably in the present. It is to my elders’ credit, those who grew up with these songs as tweens, teeny boppers, mods, hippies, Yippies, et al., that they came out, if you like, to show them, that there is an audience for this stuff, even on the night following a snowpocalypse. (Would that the kids would see… The same brain frazzled noodle dancers who pay hundreds to tour with (take your pick) could instead invest a fraction of the time and money to see an outfit with real, vested, undeniable provenance.)
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