I got to see the Moody Blues for the fifth time in my life on Sunday night. More times than I got to see Miles Davis or Captain Beefheart. Ah! The things we do for love!
What I'm saying is my wife is a huge fan, and I'm not, which is not to say that the Moodys don't do a good job.
On the contrary, they have one of the most polished and professional shows on the rock circuit. Contrary to my ignorant impression before my wife rediscovered one of the favorite bands of her youth, the Moody Blues can cut a groove that gets people up and rocking.
I guess the wall-of-sound style of Nights in White Satin made the Moodys seem so grandiose and genteel to me that I couldn't imagine people dancing to their stuff. That's what happens when you just scratch the surface of something.
If I have one gripe, it's that the format of their show varies so little. They have such a big body of work, you'd think people would tire of the same dozen or so tunes.
Two sides of life
To me, their music is just pleasant, tuneful stuff, full of wide-eyed sentiments about living and loving. But as I watched the crowd and, especially my wife, I could see that the band's songs served these people as a vehicle to The Other Side of Life, as one of the Moodys' best songs puts it.
In my wife's eyes, I could see dreams unrealized awaken. For the length of the nearly two-hour-long show, she imagined living life much larger than our humdrum allows.
I don't think it was nostalgia exactly, because the longing they seemed to exhibit was for a world they have yet to visit, rather than one they've lost.
That's quite a feat to accomplish, and few bands make their audiences feel it so thoroughly. At times, I wish I could go along for the ride, but musical taste is inexplicable. Critics take their stab at explaining why something is good or bad, but in the end, bad or good, something either moves you or it doesn't.
The bulk of the crowd at Blockbuster Desert Sky Pavilion on Sunday (and this crowd included fans of all ages) was moved by the Moodys.
