In the late morning shadow of Fenway Park, an excited crowd dressed in more St. Patrick’s Day flair than was thought feasible — or even possible — waited patiently on Landsdowne Street for the doors of The House of Blues concert hall to open. And some, like us, only waited for the HOB’s bar to be open, and in we went.
And it must be mentioned here — the staff at the House of Blues was phenomenal. We had over an hour to kill, and P.T. and Alyssa took great care of us at the bar, and the various security/bouncer type blokes we met here and there were all gracious smiles as they directed us to the rest rooms, or checked our bags. I didn’t even mind when one man politely confiscated a squished and forgotten Cliff bar at the bottom of my purse before I entered the concert hall.
But even the most pleasant atmosphere on the outside can’t eliminate all concert woes on the inside. As much as I love a good, loud, lively show, the combination of alcohol and St. Patrick’s Day hype in such a crowded room kept the mom in me thinking, “This is surely an accident waiting to happen.” And yet, somehow the frenzied moshing and occasional pushing and shoving and boob grabbing that occurs outside “the pit” was really not that bad at all. And our own crowd of ten only suffered one real injury when Warren’s ankle received a mosh pit stomp that resulted in considerable swelling later on.
Three acts preceded the DKM: Bryan McPherson, The Old Brigade, and Civet. The only group we saw before the main show was Civet — an all girl punk band out of Long Beach, CA. They had energy and attitude, but when you can’t understand many lyrics because they’re being yelled, not sung — the appeal is diminished.
And then it was time for the main act. True to DKM’s nod to their musical ancestry, their set was heralded by a recording of “Foggy Dew” sung by Sinead O’Connor with the Chieftains. There was a raucous, yet respectful response to the ballad, creating the perfect intro. And then the boys bounced onto the stage, their visceral energy contrasting with the stained glass window backdrop. They ripped right into “Do or Die,” and never looked back.
Another rousing anthem followed, “State of Massachusetts,” the sad story about a woman who loses her children to DSS. But lest the crown feel any sort of melancholy, an adorable line of young girls step danced their way on stage, including Ken Casey’s own daughter. They smiled and bounced to “Johnny I Hardly Knew Ya” in the most shiny and colorful costumes imaginable, and again graced the stage during “Captain Kelly’s Kitchen.” What great fun.