Those are lyrics from the opening song of last night’s set by The Raconteurs at the House of Blues in Atlantic City, but it could also easily explain the way my hearing is functioning right now. They rocked the house volume-wise, but was it worth $50 and a trip to the Showboat Casino (where I didn’t even approach a slot machine)? Put me down as a firm “Eh.”
The opening band, Philadelphia’s own Dr. Dog, started strong with their fun, trippy “Say Something,” but were only interesting for one more song after that. By the end of their set, the drunk, idiot frat boys from NYC who were standing near me were giving them an enthusiastic thumbs down. I didn’t want to associate myself with the drunkards, but I silently concurred.
Save for the fact that I was fifteen feet from Brendan Benson when The Raconteurs took the stage (anyone who knows me personally knows my affection for his music), their set was underwhelming. Aside from the opening “Intimate Secretary,” “Level,” and a great version of “Together,” the songs weren’t of the level you hear on the album. White did a great job of blending in with the band despite the fact that 90% of the crowd was there because they knew his music (I was there, of course, for Benson), but his shrieky vocals made it impossible to understand the music unless you had committed it to memory. He and Benson traded some spectacular guitar solos, but they were the only memorable things about the majority of the set.
While the experience of the concert and the adventure of getting there made the trip worthwhile, the music I experienced while there was not quite worth the price of admission. Go listen to The Raconteurs’ studio album, save yourself $40, and enjoy.