My Music Journal 2025: February 18, 2025

 

Tuesday, February 18, 2025

Time: 7:45 AM
Song: Superstar
Artist: The Clarks
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on the way to work. 

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/4PkPSzN12MShC2ZrYPuQtL?si=6a90040fb77d449b

In the summer of 2002 (I think), I loaded up a van of my friends and we drove from Sterling to DeKalb for a concert at Ottos, a small downtown club. The headliner that night was O.A.R., a group that had hit it big on college campuses across the Midwest the previous school year.

It was a warm, blue-sky day. It was my first summer working third shift at National Manufacturing, so I probably slept until mid-afternoon, and I woke with a sore throat and stuffy nose but determined to power through. Twenty years later, I probably wouldn’t have been admitted to the club. Thanks, COVID.

Ottos was a classic downtown club, two floors, the second a balcony that looked down on the stage. We stood on the balcony, shoulder to shoulder with each other and with complete strangers. My nose was completely plugged in the warm, humid room. I had both an awesome and miserable time.

The Clarks were the openers, a young band so hungry to build their fanbase that they handed a free CD with a few tracks at the door. They played a fine, but mostly forgettable set before O.A.R. hit the stage and the entire building started rocking. I kind of think that’s what ended up being the story for the Clarks. They were a fine little band, but mostly forgettable.

I should not this isn't my favorite song from the Clarks. I liked their single "Hey You" a little better, but they are similar sounding songs.

My other clear memory from this concert was that we were standing near a group of guys, who I think were drinking heavily (maybe). We were under 21, so maybe Ottos didn’t serve alcohol. Still, it was a college town, so maybe they snuck some in.

One kid had red hair, a skinny kid, my memory tells me. He was a little loud talking to his friend, and I remember him saying at one point that he was looking to get into a fight that night. It didn’t seem like he had anyone in mind, he just wanted to brawl.

That was a pretty foreign concept for me. My idea of good time didn’t involve either hitting someone or getting hit by someone. In fact, a good night usually meant nothing of the sort happened.

It might have been one of the first times I realized just how differently other people approach the world, and I think that’s why it sticks in my memory.