Big Bad in Beantown: Boston Calling
Total Miles ~ 90
Day 5: Boston Calling Day 1
I know full well that I’m bad at relaxation. I can do it for a few hours maybe, but drop me in a new city and I’ll see most fo the sights within a weekend. So, here’s most of the sights in Boston in a weekend.
The first day got me real acquainted with the Red Line of the MBTA. For some asinine reason, it was easier — and quicker — to drive 18 miles to the Alewife station using the freeway than the 9-mile straight-line shot down the expressway. Go figure.
So, there’s a drive, a subway ticket, and a walk from Harvard Square to the Harvard Athletic Fields.
I didn’t see much other than those few places because the Boston calling Festival lineup was so stacked, even with the replacement bands.
First up was Grandson, which was a lot of energy for the first slot of the day. I recorded quite a bit and sent it to my brother (and later bought him the only merch tee of then entire festival). All in all, a solid start. Next up was Mob Rich, featuring Grandson for a song at the end. I saw a side stage act, Miranda Rae, who belted out some slow jamz before walking over to see Avril Lavigne. Who. Crushed. It.
Her setlist was pretty short so I walked to see Rufus Du Sol’s final three tracks.
The main headliner was supposed to be Foo Fighters before Taylor Hawkins died, so the festival came up with Nine Inch Nails as a last-minute replacement.
Truth be told, I still am not a fan of NIN. I haven’t listened to a single song since the festival. I don’t like industrial, never have, and never will. That said, NIN put on one of the greatest live performances I have ever seen. Trent Reznor has incredible stage presence, and the production crew outdid themselves with “simple” lighting, smoke, and effects. I didn’t take too many photos of this set because I couldn’t get great lighting in the VIP deck (humble brag).
Actually, you know what, no. Not a humble brag. Full on brag. Do the VIP at shows. If anything, the air conditioned bathrooms were worth the price alone. Was it a great festival? Not by any standards. They had some deep, deep issues with staffing, crowd management, UA drinkers, etc. Should VIP have been that much more expensive. Hell no. And yet…AC bathrooms on the hottest and most humid weekend of the year so far in the Northeast…and separate bars…and viewing areas with less people and shade areas…it was worth it.
Day 6: Boston Calling Day 2
Rain, rain, go away!
The second day was a confluence of errors. Rain washed away the entire middle portion of the lineup. Scratch Black Pumas, Orville, Peck, and KennyHoopla from the roster. I was able to see Madrid-based Hinds and local talent Dutch Tulips before the sky opened up on us.
Hinds is a fun, quirky band that flows between English, Spanish and French. If the Minions had a favorite band, they would be it. Dutch Tulips was another side stage surprise that proved to be worth it more than main stagers. You could see the clouds getting scarier, but there was still some hope it would pass to the south. Those hopes were quickly dashed while walking toward Frances Forever, who walked off stage mere seconds before the festival PA came on with the postponement announcement.
Not just postponement, but we had to leave the whole festival grounds (or go to the Harvard football stadium hallways). I guess in a turn of luck, my friend and his then fiance invited me to dinner in Boston’s North End.
Holy Cannoli, what a town.
If you’re ever in Boston, Mike’s Pastry is a must see/buy. Billed as the home of the American Cannoli, they had some of the best through-the-glass treats I’ve ever seen.
And then eaten.
To get there, I had to ride the Red Line to the Green Line, walk through the Boston Public Market, and skip around traffic, a nice park, and Little Italy.
Post pastry I met my inviting couple at Strega and had pasta in a cheese wheel! From the food standpoint it was a Top 3 meal of the trip.
Cut to another Mike’s Pastry visit.
In part because my friend wanted to go, but also because I ordered regular cannoli and a chocolate chip in my first visit, but the woman gave me one regular and one pistachio. When I asked her about the mixup, she just stared at me and said in broken Italian/English, “I like pistachio.”
And then we walked around the North End until I got word the festival was back on. He gave me some pointers on what I should check out before going subterranean.
Cue the frantic subway rides, cannoli in tow, to get back just in time to see Run the Jewels and another performance from NIN.
Because they had to fill in.
For The Strokes.
The primary reason I bought tickets to the festival. News came from the festival social media team during Day 1: someone in The Strokes got covid and the show was canceled. NIN would be on hand to go back-to-back. Mind you, this was the THIRD time I paid to see The Strokes live and the show ended up being canceled. Literally one of my favorite bands and the Gods don’t want it to be. I managed to see Julian Casablancas live on his solo tour when I was in Des Moines, but it’s not the same.
Predictably, I was upset, questioning the money, the trip, and then NIN took the stage and played an entirely new set albeit for 3 songs. That’s insane. Two concerts, same band, 1 hour 40 minutes each show, 3 of the same songs. I’ll sing their live performance praises to anyone who’ll listen. I just won’t listen to their songs on Spotify. It’s a weird world.
Day 7: Boston Calling Day 3
What can I say?
Metallica rocks with both hands.
So did Cults, Modest Mouse, Glass Animals, and Weezer. Back and forth, muscail volley after volley. The final day of the festival washed away all the other problems of the festival. The VIP came in super handy by getting a spot on the rail that gave me added advantage of seeing MM and Weezer from across the grounds without having to wade through swarms of people. I even met a nice couple who agreed to hold my spot as I got food (sushi cones!) and drinks. It was a Top 10 concert day. Master of Puppets live is mind-meltingly awesome. Sure, Enter Sandman is the big hit, but 10 minutes of Puppets destroys any notion that Metallica is somehow washed up or too old.
Day 8: Memorial Day
Gee, I love Baseball! (inside joke for the MLive news desk)
I explored almost everything my friend said I should do. Afta hopping aun the Orange Line to downtown, I walked the Freedom Trail, hit up anotha market, saw some street performers, ate at the auldest Oysta house, and then drank at the auldest bah*.
Whoops, that accent just infects the mind.
*The Bell in Hand bills itself as the oldest continuously run bar in the country, I previously visited Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop Bar in New Orleans, which is listed as the oldest place to be used as a bar in the US without always operating as such.
I did all that before hopping on a hot, muggy train to Fenway Park.
