Things I Learned from Last Night's Keith Urban Concert

Last night I went to the Sugarland/ Keith Urban concert at the Sommet Center. I'm not a live music person which is sacrilege in Nashville, but the ticket was free, in a suite, and the company promised to be fun as well. Besides, there's no better place to country music, pop country or old school, than in the town that celebrates it in its every boot scuff and lilting twang accent.

It was a good show. Anyone that can play for two hours with but a minute or two break is truly earning some money. It was entertaining for sure, but I'd have say that I dig Sugarland a little more than Keith Urban. Plus I was resentful that he didn't even mention Nicole Kidman at all.

That being said, here are some things I noticed:

• Every woman there--from the young to the more mature--was dressing as if they expected Keith to see them and instantly know he was meant for them. Which is a little bewildering when he has a notoriously famous and beautiful wife who bore him a child. And little creepy when you consider that if you brought a recovering coke addict accountant home, your family wouldn't have a great response, but Keith Urban-hell yeah.
  
• To have be a hit in country music, you must have at least one song in your catalog about skipping work and staying in bed with your lover. It's obligatory. People eat that shit up.
• Guitarists truly are enamored with having something large come from their crotch. Keith Urban is a HELL of a guitarist. More than I've probably ever taken the time to notice or give credit for. However, one hazards to guess that those calluses don't come solely from his pickin' if you know what I mean.
• Are the expectations of a country love song a little out of reach with reality? I mean if Chef started spewing some of the things that are in these lyrics, I think I'd have a hard time taking him seriously. Also, it made me think Keith Urban was a little but of a pussy. I'm just saying.
• The older I get, the more curmudgeonly I get and think that I'm turning into my father (not that that's entirely a bad thing). I found myself thinking "Stop letting the crowd sing. If I wanted to hear that, I'd step down to the karaoke bar and listen to these drunk bastards later tonight." and the classic "Why are you singing someone else's songs? I didn't come to hear someone else. I came to hear you sing YOUR songs."

Overall, it was a good night with great company and what I needed. Now I need a lazy day and some additional grocery shopping.