#Aerosmith Concert Tickets

[minyard-05]

so i thought about my matt & aaron being concert buddies hc a bit more and now i have a collection of Thoughts

they take it in turns getting tickets/tshirts, one person buys the tickets and the other buys the shirts/drinks, and next time they switch. they are agreed that souvenir t-shirts are the second most important part of concerts UNLESS the tshirt sucks in which case you might as well take a picture of the dates and make your own

they start doing concert outings in aaron's third year, once finding out that they have similar music tastes (and are open enough to new stuff to go to just about anything)

they go to a few campus shows, local/student bands before finding bigger shows in columbia and stuff to go to

before the first like Big show they go to together, nicky jokingly says he expects hourly photographic updates from matt to keep andrew sane, and matt does exactly that, every hour he texts the foxes gc a picture of aaron by the car, wearing his shirt, in the crowd, holding drinks, etc. this sparks a running joke between katelyn and dan that they're each their boyfriends' side pieces

artists they've seen together include but not limited to: linkin park, alice cooper, van halen, bruce springsteen, aerosmith, muse, avenged sevenfold, and pearl jam

they keep their concert tradition up as often as possibly until aaron graduates, and afterwards they'll still catch shows whenever they can, but matt's on a pro team and aaron's in med school, so it's only a couple per summer if they can manage it

they do take katelyn and dan along at one point and its totally a double date

before long, 90% of their respective wardrobes are just concert t-shirts. Too many.

they may or may not begin offhandedly befriending people in bands to get into shows free (matt is most guilty of this but aarons not complaining)

[torchflies]

Bradley and Jake go to Queen concert, because Jake is core fan and Bradley has free tickets in last minute. Jake asks:“How did you get them?” “Uncle Brian gave them to me and my boyfriend and we can meet band after concert.”

Bradley absolutly grew up with uncles Brian, Roger, John and Freddie, friends of his Icepop. Jake has no idea who are Bradley's uncles.😉

Oh Jake Seresin is SUCH a Queen fan. 😂

Bradley is everyone’s favorite kid and despite how hard Ice tried to keep him out of the limelight, he's super comfortable at concerts and in the music world. Heck by the time he’s grown he's been backstage at Def Leppard, GNR, Foo Fighters, Queen, Crüe, Van Halen, Aerosmith etc. He's Kairo’s kid no matter where he goes.

Jake just about DIES when he meets Queen, the coolest rock grandpas around. They’ll specifically play Too Much Love Will Kill You if Bradley is in attendance (in this AU, that song is about Kairo Jett, the honest talks they had together about fame; the Brian May sung version will always make me sob).

THANK YOU FOR ASKING ABOUT THE TOMMY AU 😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[thegazette5]

I've found out that reita is gone three months later

so yesterday at night, august 15, I found out that reita was dead... and I couldn't' believe it, it was so surreal and I cried reading the words of ruki for him. it pains me to know the gazette members were friends, mostly reita and uruha that used to know way before.

tbh I haven't listened to the gazette since 2016

I met the gazette's music at 18 or something like that and

now I'm 36 and I have clinic depression and when the gazette made their second world tour, the country I live in it's close to argentina, I had a friend who had an argentinian friend that got me a front row ticket for the gazette concert, I got the flight tickets for me and my friend, and then I had a shitty nationality that didn't let me go anywhere (I already changed my nationality) anyway, I didn't get the visa to argentina, I was so sad I wanted to end everything. I went straight to the psychiatrist, it was the first time I really wanted to end everything, every bad thing that had happened to me, not being able to got to the gazette's concert was the last blow, and someone I thought as my best friend back then, she got to go and it made me so sad and angry 'cause she wasn't even a real fan compared to me, she just happened to listen to their songs that year and go (she dedicated ito to me 'cause she missed me, and hell I told her 'bout that song's meaning, that's my proof she wasn't a fan)

so I stopped listening to the gazette, but this year I felt like listening to, and last night I was listening to layla by eric clapton because a kaleido star's fanfic I was reading with the characters layla and yuri, and I wanted a name for the main female character of the book I was trying to write, I thought layla was cool, but there's already too many L in my main male character's name, so I thought of reila (I thought it was reira) and there was "what happened to reita the gazette" on the search while I was looking for reila's lyrics, I thought it was a illness or accident, but no, reita is gone.

I found out that reita is gone while listening to eric clapton playing guitar.

I went to wikipedia and I thought a troll edited the page, a horrible joke, but it was real and it means I'll never go to a the gazette's concert in my life, maybe I still can, but it won't be the same without reita, he is the gazette and he is my fave bassist and I remember when I was young and grew up with the gazette's songs, I got excited just by watching their pvs on the screen, everytime I read their interviews were so inspiring, just a bunch of young adult friends that decided to pursue the same dream together. I wish I had that kind of friends, and let's face it, most jrock groups break after a few years, the gazette were friends with the same dream that lasted over two decades, they were losers that had each other and followed their dreams and made them come true and to me the gazette isn't one of the best rock/metal groups of japan, to me they're one of the best in this whole universe.

and I went to two aerosmith lives where they were in their 60s and I dreamed of the the gazette were going to rock 'til they were old in his 70s.

tbh I'm curious about reita's passing, I want to know why, last year matthew perry died and I love friends, it was shocking, but I did know why, however asian artists are more discreet than western ones and we may never now about what happened to reita. there's so many rumours and the gazette haven't released new songs since 2021? I guess there'll be a new bassist and I won't hate on him, but it won't be the same.

reita was so young, not 45 or 47, he was 42 and I don't want to believe in the horrible rumours. whatever happened to him, it was his life, if there's heaven, another life or another world I hope he's in peace.

and I'm hurt and I'm not ready to listen to the gazette music yet.

[tuliptired]

Hiii!!! I love your fics sm ahhdhsbsb 🤭🤭🤭

Can I request a Ray or Egon one-shot with a GN or male rockstar reader? It could be present time or college days, I think them having a bit of gay panic would be fun, have a good day!!

Warrior in Woolworths

Pairing: Ray Stantz/Rockstar!Male!Reader

Warnings: Minor violence/blood

Shoutout to the Ray fans out there I salute you all

Better formatting on Ao3!! (italics and such)

 Ray pulled his trusty leather jacket closer to himself, hands in his pockets when a chill ran through the dark street. If he was going to this thing, he was gonna look the part.

He was given two tickets to a concert held in a venue he just couldn’t find. They were a gift- given to him by the short redheaded girl in his advanced algebra class for bringing all her work when she was stuck with tonsillitis.

“Gee, thanks!” Ray took the two slips of paper from her in the empty hallway. He pursed his lips, willing to take a chance. “Would you like to come with me?”

Her smile weakened. “I’m sorry. My boyfriend wouldn’t want me to.”

That crossed one person off the list, at least. In the moment, he wasn’t really trying to insinuate any sort of date. Back in high school, most of his friends were girls, and they loved live music. Their moms would get tons of pictures before they left and thank him for being such a good friend. College was surely complicating things.

He would’ve asked his sister, or one of his cousins, but they had their own things going on. Besides, the name of this band seemed a bit too extreme for his Aerosmith family. Where was this place, anyway? He’d circled the block at least twice, and the little part of New York felt more like a place where good kids whose parents paid for tuition shouldn’t be strolling around.

He had his friends- they were guys. Apparently guys were the ones to invite to concerts. But Peter wanted to have an early night. Which corner store did he have to solicit to get directions around here? Egon was a laughable option. Ray finally stopped his aimless wandering when a few kids in denim ran down the street, skipping down some steps and into the basement of a dimly lit dive.

Ray followed, the excitement and body heat of the minuscule hall spilling out when he opened the door, squeezing through and trying to hand a ticket to someone he assumed was supposed to handle them, though he was slumped back on a stool, smoke surrounded him. Ray just slipped the paper into a cardboard box filled with others, suddenly anxious at how packed it was. Even more smoke hazed up the air, floating up to a skylight and dancing above the heads of those who chose to hang off a balcony that wrapped around the room. He found himself imagining what this place used to be, velvety red remnants of what was once a hidden and cozy Italian place or even a comedy club covered up by large stage lights, posters, and spray paint.

Your little group made it out amidst screaming. Lots of screaming, so loud that the uproar alone shook his shabby barstool from the ground up. It was dark, the only things visible above countless people were the silhouettes of instruments and their attached handlers.

No introduction, no opener, just pure noise. Even bigger than the screaming, bass and bass drum fighting for capital over the space. Guitars cut through everything like a laser, sharp and clear. Everyone was going absolutely insane, and Ray just needed a second- just a second to pick apart sound and voices and words. 

The first song was over as soon as it started, a commotion of applause around him. The lights finally came up, ever so slightly, and he was starting to understand the hype. 

There you were, guitar around your shoulders and gripping a microphone like your life depended on it. You looked like you’d gone mad, in chunky boots and reflective leather.

“I’m pissed,” your voice rang out into the mic, and you were greeted with cheers across the board. When those died down, you started again. “People are trying to change what we do. They’re trying to make it something it’s not.”

You really knew how to get a crowd going. And maybe the butterflies in his stomach coming out of their cocoons- you sounded nothing like he expected. “Rock isn’t digestible. It isn’t a commodity. It’s dirty, it’s improper, it’s starved.”

The next song started after that. Harder, more aggressive, but more vocals than anything. You sang even better than you sounded. Ray could feel his bones rattling, hair sticking up on every part of his body as your fingers glided across your guitar. You played even better than you sang.

He stopped keeping track, at some point just feeling like pure energy. He was in a vacuum while the drummer hit the snare, a raging and vibrating vacuum. But it was far from unpleasant. This was a room full of people who had been wronged, downtrodden, ignored, and this was their release, musical or otherwise. Someone brought out a saxophone, something he could appreciate as a fellow woodwind. It helped that the frontman- frontperson? Was pretty damn good at what they did.

There was a slower song, sardonic and dark, where you were practically having relations with the microphone stand. Everything about you was teeming with a gnarly power, and Ray couldn’t even make out your features. Only the shine of white light bouncing off your clothes and accessories. You kept playing guitar like it’d kill you otherwise, and it all made him incredibly flustered. He clutched his hand over his heart. He wanted you bad, and he couldn’t even tell if you were a girl or not.

Ray wished it would never end, feeling the adolescent indignance and passion flow through him like it was intravenous. But, all good things had an expiration, and your band was backstage not long after midnight. He felt he’d be imposing if he mingled among the revolutionaries, but he needed to walk a bit, before he got too excited and tried to hit something.

When Ray found his car the next street over, he could barely get off the sidewalk when a police officer blew into his whistle.

“How long have you been parked here?” The man had his hands on his hips.

Ray blinked. “About an hour or three. Is that a problem?” The officer pointed up to a sign, which read that parking had been restricted here for most of the night.

He pulled out a pad of paper, muttering about “college kids” and “no one listens”, when Ray’s pulse quickened, clammy hands rubbing the nape of his neck. He’s never gotten a ticket before- whether that was because he was a good driver or conveniently avoided the cops was beside it all. There’s no way he had the money to pay for it, and no way he’d wanna bother his parents for it. How much were tickets, anyway? 

“What’re you doing?” An unfamiliar voice sounded from down the sidewalk, somewhat hidden in darkness.

The officer squinted and went back to scribbling out the fine. “Mind your own business and go home,” he shouted back.

“You can’t give him a ticket, I know that guy!”

He looked between Ray and the stranger, pen in hand. “You know this guy?”

“Duh.” There was a second of silence. “That’s Steve.”

The policeman stared at Ray like he was a felon, and Ray stared back just as dumbly. He’d go along with anything, if it kept his record clean. He stuffed his things back in his blue shirt pocket, stalking off slowly and continuing to talk of “damned punks” and “too old for night patrol.”

Ray stood under the orange street lamps, dumbfounded with his back against the passenger door. His wallet’s savior emerged from the shadows, and his breath hitched when he got a better look. You were the one on stage! With the guitar and the voice and a lot of dark stuff under your eyes. Crazy hair, at least to his understanding. You don’t see more than 5-6 different styles at an Ivy. Chains and rips on taut black leather- you definitely don’t see that at an Ivy. You had your jacket tied around square hips, exposing arms and shoulders with discreet tattoos. Self-done, perhaps? Regardless, that was NYU behavior, not Columbia. And you weren’t a girl. Should he still want you?

“I don’t think your name is really Steve.” 

His mouth opened and closed while he tried to remember English. “No. No, it’s Raymond.” He cringed inside. Why use the objectively lamer version of his name? He’s embarrassing himself in front of the funky rockstar. “Ray,” he corrected.

And the funky rockstar smiled at him. “You gotta fight back, Ray. Don’t let them take your $2.”

“You lied to a policeman over $2?” Ray questioned some of the virtues he’d been raised on.

You shrugged. “Money is money. You shouldn’t get hassled for parking on the street.” Huh. He’d never thought of it that way. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy getting a ticket?”

“No, dude, the show.” 

Oh yeah- he was at a concert for a super awesome band and their frontman, as he just found out, just covered for him. “Yeah, it was great.” It was more than great, dummy. It was electric, exhilarating, galvanizing, bewildering. “It was really, really great.”

Ray felt a tinge self conscious as you watched him, unblinking, fearing he had offended you somehow. “You don’t go to these things often.”

He nodded, guard dropping a bit. “What gave it away?”

You pointed out the clunky glasses tucked into the pocket of his shirt. “My mom said I should bring them wherever I go,” Ray laughed bashfully, pulling them out and sliding them into his dark jeans. 

He felt proud at making you snicker. “It’s cool. Half my bandmates wear contacts.”

“Where are they, anyway?” Ray realized you were out and about without them. He was probably holding you up from something. 

“They’re around here, somewhere. We’ll run into each other eventually.” Your attention shifted to his Camaro, running a hand over the paintjob. “Your car’s awesome, man.”

He already knew that, but the confirmation was nice. “Really? It still needs work.”

“Can’t even tell,” you peered into the passenger side window, “I’ve only seen these when they’ve been stolen.”

Ray didn’t wanna just leave you here, if that was true- even though you seemed more than capable of fighting off a few muggers. Perhaps he just wanted more time with the cool musician. “Wanna take a drive?” he ran a thumb over the back of his own knuckles. “See if we can find your friends?”

Ray went to a concert, alone, got a parking violation, and there’s a really peculiar guitarist sitting in his passenger seat, Doc Martens on his dashboard. And he couldn’t even bring himself to care about your shoes scuffing the interior fabric. 

“Where’re you looking to go?” He took note of how empty the city street seemed, the only light coming from lamp posts and 24-hour shops and restaurants, occasionally poking out of home curtains.

“Wherever you’re willing to take me.” Ray swallowed, bringing the car to life as you sat back, hands behind your head. He hadn’t been with many girls romantically, but they’d never been so comfortable so soon- not even his other male friends, let alone a stranger. A very alluring stranger.

You turned your head to face him casually. “No one gave you shit, right?”

He drove slower than you should on a residential road. “I don’t think so. I was at the bar the whole night.”

“Good.” Your belts and chains made clinking sounds as you crossed one ankle over the other. “The bar’s no fun. Find the guy messing with the speakers and tell him you know the color of my underwear, that’ll get you up close.”

“I’m not sure my guess will be correct.”

“It’s always green on show nights, I can show you-” Ray struggled to keep his eyes on the turn he was making when you shimmied up, thumbs in the hem of your pants.

“I believe you,” he successfully got onto another street without veering onto the sidewalk. “When’s your next show?”

Ray had a small grin as you slumped back down. “Not for a crazy long time. Not here, at least.” That news sucked. He should hassle you for a phone number, if that wasn’t too bold. So you could be pen-pals, obviously. “We’re friends, right?”

He kept driving, not entirely sure of where he was going and scared he’d instinctively take the route back to his dorm, but at ease at the feeling of rolling rubber on asphalt. “In all of 10 minutes.”

Your laughter filled his car. “If- when we find them. We usually bounce around a few more shows, drink some, crash somewhere for the night. Wanna come with?”

Ray would’ve leapt at the opportunity to have the night with his new friend, but his old friend needed him. Peter went to bed early to be rested to see his dad the next afternoon. He wanted Ray there as a buffer, in case his day at home was as grating as he expected it to be. “I’m sorry, I promised my friend I’d go out with him in the morning.” he frowned, seeing that it was already past his bedtime.

He’d like to think you were a bit disappointed. “No problem,” you pulled out two little white things, “the least I could do is treat you to a smoke.”

The car slowed at a fairly useless stoplight in the desolate intersection. You lit his own before he lifted it to his lips, but the one in between your fingers refused to ignite next to the sparking lighter. “Outta fuel,” you uttered.

Before Ray could finish gazing down at the center console for his own, your calloused palms held onto either side of his jaw, pressing your unlit cigarette to his ablaze one. It was so close to a kiss that he found himself wondering where to put his hands, one gripping the steering wheel and the other the firm shoulder of the seat next to him. Which was stupid, because kisses were reserved for his mother’s cheek. And girlfriends who called him Raymond and kissed him at the door but never ended up calling again. And girl friends who called him Stantz and only kissed him at the door to get their moms off their backs.

You definitely weren’t his mom, or a girlfriend, or even a girl friend, and Ray felt himself wishing, deep down and with sweaty palms, that there weren’t two rolled partitions between you both. Something about your presence made him want to let go of the engineering department, cutting the lights during the day to save energy, always having his glasses in case of an emergency. The casualness in which your fingers framed his face while the embers burned from one end to the other made him wanna be something dirty, improper, and starved.

Someone appeared behind them, probably waiting a while, and mashed their horn impatiently. Ray remembered that he was behind the wheel, green light reflecting into the car when he hastily pulsed the gas. His father would be incredibly disappointed with his son- nearly sullying his record (for $2), letting a stranger dig their heels into his leatherwork, smoking. Pretty much half his extended family smoked, they just managed to hide it from each other. The shame was still there. Blowing nicotine inches away from the face of another man when you had a duty to everyone else on the road. Dirty, improper, starved.

The car rumbled along. Ray wouldn’t call himself innocent or inexperienced. 6-foot-something and pretty solid, he drank, cursed, had to shave every so often, got into plenty of trouble. It just didn’t seem like your kind of trouble. But was that always a bad thing? 

You had your nose pressed to the glass of the window, suddenly taken by something outside. “Pull over real quick! You’ve gotta try this one place.”

He did as you said, parking in the white glow of a Chinese spot, following you in after you took a final drag, crushing the tobacco under your heel. “I’m telling you- instant hangover cure.” you held the door open, jacket now back over your shoulders.

“You’re hungover?” Ray questioned, eyes adjusting to the bright ambiance. It was a smaller place, not unlike any other takeout spot in the city, void of customers at the late hour.

 “Not yet,” you smirked over your shoulder. Ray watched timidly as your hand slid a few wrapped, green candies to a girl sitting behind the counter. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

The girl, who probably should be in bed, fought you quietly in Cantonese, and you simply apologized. “Alright, I’m sorry. Two of the usual. Oh, and two beers. Please.”

Ray took the liberty of grabbing two frosty bottles from the freezer, not missing how the girl disappeared up the steps into her house, rather than the restaurant’s kitchen. “How much?” he asked over your shoulder.

You shook your head fervently. “Doesn’t cost anything.”

“You’re stealing?” he whispered harshly.

“No!” you whispered just as intensely. “They never make me pay.”

“Oh,” Ray dropped his defenses, following you to a round table in the middle of the square floor, “how come?”

You leaned back in your seat, wooden legs an inch or two off the ground. “Some guys tried to rob the owner. I stopped ‘em, watched the store a few nights, and now she lets me eat for free.” Ray’s eyes just short of popped out his head when you lifted the hem of your shirt over a bit of your abdomen. “It’s how I got this.”

There was a dark, running scar close to your ribs. “How- why- are you okay?” He fretted, astounded at your laissez faire attitude.

“It’s fine, it’s old. I knew he had a shiv.” you slung your arm over the back of the chair, having opened your beer.

“You knew, and you still spat with them?” He could imagine you in a narrow bathroom, attempting to stitch yourself up. “That’s…brave,” he couldn’t lie.

You leaned forward, opening his drink for him. “Just community. She made sure everyone was fed at night, anyway.” 

“That’s your movement,” Ray ran a finger up and down the damp glass, “isn’t it?” Getting shanked in the dark to keep a small business safe was definitely the unseen side of the subculture you subscribed to. 

He watched as your eyes lit up with the same passion you had on that stage. “Yeah! Community, safety, liberation- can’t survive if we’re all taking from each other. It’s why I make music.” Ray smiled at your selflessness. Handsome and heroic, in a roguish way. He was wrong. He still wanted you, bad. 

“You’d be a hot drummer.” That certainly caught him off guard, almost sending alcohol flying out his nose. 

Ray put a hand to a dry nostril, just in case. “What?”

“I mean it,” you bent at the waist over the table. “Little hairspray,” you mussed his growing hair, “little eye-gunk, tighten the shirt, shoulder tat- you’d be perfect.”

“You’re just saying that,” Ray sat obediently as you tried to dry-style him. He’d let you do that all night, if you felt like it.

An older woman, probably the owner, came down the steps, carrying two bowls in pink pajamas. You sat back, leaving his hair a mess when you rubbed your hands together in excitement. “Thank you, Mrs. Tsang.” you passed him a set of chopsticks. “You’re not ready for this.”

“Where to next?” You asked Ray, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

“Wherever you want,” he tried his best to etch your image into his long-term memory before you both ran into some guys.

Tall, big, guys, managing to tower over you both, each in more leather than you had in your closet. You didn’t look as scared as Ray felt, his knees threatening to buckle, as you just held onto a plastic bag holding the remains of your dinner. “Were we in your way?”

“The old lady around?” the biggest one grunted, getting awfully close.

You stood, unfazed. “Yeah, and I am too.”

He jabbed his finger into your chest, barely far from nose to nose. “You wanna get cut again?”

“Barely felt it last time.”

The drop of sweat on Ray’s forehead hardly had a moment to roll down before a fist flew to the middle of your face, a grotesque sound ricocheting off the walls of the empty street. The gang of strangers, once they saw you were sufficiently hurt, bolted into the night, Mrs. Tsang appearing in the window of her establishment.

“Are you okay?” Ray panicked, helping you steady yourself inside, collecting your gushing blood in your cupped hands, ignoring your complaints about how he made you drop your noodles. His heartbeat raced as a few drips got onto his shirt, feeling even more disoriented when the owner said a few things in another language.

“Bathroom,” you pointed a red finger down a hallway near the steps. Ray got the door open, and you woozily sat on the sink, body weight leaning away from the mirror at your back. “Aid kit in the cabinet.”

You were right, and it was sitting next to a half full bottle of liquor. He slowly pried your hands from your nose, bracing himself. “Let me see,” he coaxed you, cringing at the air you hissed out through your teeth.

It wasn’t all bad, Ray could tell that underneath all the blood was just a little discoloration and a deep gash. “At least it’s not broken,” he said shakily, ducking behind you to let some cold water run over a towel he found in the little white box.

“Another point for me,” you managed to get out through pained groans, blood trickling into your mouth. 

Ray tried to remember his boy scout training, bringing himself to wipe away some of the drying nastiness from your face. “This happens often?”

He scarcely touched you when you recoiled in pain. “Why d’you think they kept this stuff in here?” you attempted a weak smile.

This wasn’t gonna get done without some outside help. He grabbed the bottle by the neck, passing it to you, hands on his hips as you pretty much emptied the entire thing. Ray resumed, and the gentleness of the cool cloth, combined with the alcohol, seemed to relax you. “You’re pretty dauntless.” he stood in between your legs.

You hummed lazily- apparently a pretty crazy lightweight, at least when you were losing liters. “Someone has to be.”

When all the reddish brown was gone, Ray inspected that wound. It was fairly deep for a punch, still red and open to the air. Stitches, this needed stitches. “You’re gonna hate me for this,” he frowned, plucking a suture from the sterile container.

“I’d never,” you half-slurred, though you swallow at the sight of the barb.

Ray was halfway done, stuffing his fear and channeling a camp counselor as he brought the thread in and out the skin of your nasal dorsum. He didn’t know where he was expecting this impromptu outing to go, but definitely not here. But he didn’t really mind, either- he’d stitch you up a thousand times over if it meant he could hold your face. He couldn’t be bothered with what that said about him when he had your skin under his fingers.

“Taking care of me,” you muttered, not even flinching when the needle dove out to be tied in a knot.

“Someone has to,” Ray stepped back, pleased with his medical handiwork. His mother would be proud. “How’s that fee-”

“Be in my band.”

“What?”

You looked catatonic. “Go to Canada with me- California- wherever.”

Ray had a humorless chuckle, doing his best to wash his hands behind you. “You’re drunk,” he rationalized with himself, not looking into your eyes when he put a child’s bandage over the now closed wound.

You tried to turn to him completely with your butt perched on the edge of the sink, but you lost your balance and had to be held upright by him. “I’ll teach you the drums- something. I just don’t wanna lose you. Forget about that stuffy school.”

Hands on your ribs, he so desperately wanted to agree. To do what your spirit had been begging him to do and run away. Dirty, improper, starved. You changed his perspective in a matter of mere hours- shouldn’t he have to?

“I have to stay here,” he forced out, “I have things here.” 

Your eyes were partly pained, partly glazed with your intoxication. Your green Lamb Chop adhesive stuck out like a bullseye somewhere below knitted brows. “Can we compromise?”

“I don’t understand how this is a compromise,” Ray sat mortified in the 24-hour tattoo clinic.

You laid on your stomach, pants hiked down just under your tailbone, where a tattoo gun was currently inking you with “R.S.”. “You didn’t wanna run away with me,” you laughed drunkenly, the humorous part of being inebriated manifesting itself.

He shrunk, a pang in his chest somewhere. The tattoo artist eyed Ray for a moment. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry,” you let your eyes close. “I don’t wanna remember you sorry.”

“Are you sure you don’t want one?” you nabbed a marker from the front desk as you both left. 

“I’m sure,” Ray nodded, trying to figure out where to go. He should find your friends- drive morning and night until he found them, before he dropped everything and drove out the state with you in the backseat.

A few accented voices interrupted him, and he abruptly realized that he was grasping your hand. Your bandmates, hobbling over after their own adventures.

“This is where you went?” the British bassist started. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Ray heard you groan, and you wordlessly started pulling down the collar of his jacket, exposing the tag. “Can I?” you clumsily held up the stolen marker.

He let you, and you meticulously scrawled your initials into the white slip of fabric. A reminder, for as long as he kept it- almost like a tattoo for those who weren’t ready to be dirty, improper, starved. And he was never getting rid of this thing.

You finished, adjusting it for him and just taking a moment to hook your fingers in his pockets. Ray was gonna miss you, so hard. He felt like a teenager again, except this time he didn’t feel like he wasted your time, in an uncomfortable suit, spending date money his parents trusted him with. Maybe he could learn to live like you did, if you’d wait long enough.

“Could you and your boyfriend hurry?” your friend complained. You sighed, booze still in your system.

“You won’t forget me?”

“Never.”

You reluctantly peeled away from him and down the street with your friends. Ray watched your retreating figure as you walked off into the darkness, until you turned fast on your heels, sprinting over and jumping into his arms. The kiss was messy, and rushed, probably splitting your stitches and aggravating your sinuses. Laced with the fact that you’d be scattered around the country for an unknown amount of time. But it was the realest one Ray’s ever had.

[rhapsodynew]

#On this day

Aerosmith's first concert took place on November 6, 1970 at the Miscoe Hill School in Mendon, Massachusetts.

The performance was organized thanks to the connections of Joe Perry's mom, who helped arrange everything. Tickets for the concert cost $1.

[hellcheer-heaven]

Slippery When Wet

Chrissy and Eddie are all set to go see Bon Jovi in Indianapolis. She’s beyond excited to see one of her favorite bands. Eddie is happy that he’s going to a concert with her, but why did it have to Bon Jovi? Out of all the bands that are touring right now, why them?

The trip to Indianapolis would be another hour or so, and Chrissy was having the time of her life belting it to Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On a Prayer. When the band had listed the cities that they would be touring months ago on MTV, she practically begged Eddie to get tickets. Her wish was his command and he made sure to wait at the ticket booth at Starcourt. He wasn’t at all surprised by the long line, this was just customary when it came to the experience of going to concerts. Whether if he was going on his own or with his friends, going to see a group of talented musicians was one of the few things in his young life that made things feel a little easier. From Alice Cooper to Ozzy to Metallica and hopefully more in the near future. Still as much as he could appreciate rock and metal, Bon Jovi was the last band that he ever wanted to see.

Bon Jovi, Poison, Cinderella, and Def Leppard were the bane of his existence. Oh hell, even Mötley Crüe’s music sounded so dumb to him. He tried to give each of these bands and others a chance, but if their discography didn’t click, that was it. As soon as one of those bands played on the radio, his lightening fast reflexes turned to a different station and it was nice to not have to hear them. Of course that all changed once he learned that Chrissy adored Bon Jovi, especially if she ever saw one of their music videos or listened to Jon answering questions during an interview.

Chrissy flipped her locks and sang into her imaginary microphone. “Whoa, we’re half way there! Whoa oh, livin’ on a prayer! Take my hand- Hey! I was listening to that!”

“I know, and we’ll hear it at the concert pretty soon,” Eddie retorted as he ejected the cassette tape.

She pouted, “Eddie come on I want to finish it.”

He shook his head, “Nope, I want to take a break from Jon and listen to Ozzy.”

She crossed her arms, blue eyes glaring at him, “That’s not fair! We listen to your stuff all the time and I don’t complain about it.”

His hand was prepared to put in the tape, but Chrissy was quick to snatch it back. “Eddie I want to finish my song first.”

He breathed slowly through his nostrils, “No way, we’re gonna hear every one of his songs tonight. Besides you’ve been playing his music nonstop this whole week.”

“So?”

Eddie’s brow rose, “Chrissy, look, you gotta understand something about rock and metal music.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated at his tone, “Oh no Eddie, not another speech. Please not tonight-”

“No, I’m totally serious this time. Bon Jovi isn’t metal, they’re not rock. They’re just a bunch of pretty boys posing as rockstars. Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, Heart, Jimi Hendrix, and The Who; they’re actual rockstars. Hell, Bruce Springsteen is a rockstar!”

She scoffed before speaking up, “Eddie did you take something before we left?”

“No Chrissy, I didn’t take anything. It’s just… I mean…”

She leaned over, “Yeah? Go on.”

How on earth was he going to put this in words? Chrissy’s cold glare was like an ice pick to his chest. He gently gnawed the inside of his cheek. Well Munson, you got yourself into this mess, you’re gonna have to get yourself out.

“Well? I’m waiting Edward.”

Ooh, referring to him by his birth name. She would only ever call him that when she was very much in love or when she was annoyed with him. The former was certainly not the case. His stomach felt as if it were doing back flips while his heart pounded against his rib cage. He felt so stupid! There was no way she would take him seriously after this.

He sighed, “I just… don’t like him, okay?”

“You’ve already made it clear that you don’t like their music. What else is new?”

He tapped his finger tips on the steering wheel, “No baby, I mean… I don’t like Jon.”

She listened and considered his answer, the gears in her mind turning until something had clicked. Her eyes widened as a little smirk pulled at her pink lips, “Are you jealous?”

His cheek felt so hot, his voice going up just a bit “No! No, no, no, no! Absolutely not!”

She snickered, “Oh my god, you’re jealous Eddie. You’re actually jealous.”

He tried to sound mad, but he couldn’t get through as she giggled. “I am not jealous of that stupid pretty boy! You’re crazy! Seriously it’s not funny.”

Her giggles turned into snorts, trying her best to cool the engines of her laughter, “I mean, it kinda of is. Just a little.”

He rolled his eyes, slowly letting out a long drawn out sigh through his nose again, as he gripped the steering wheel. “Whatever, just put your music back in. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He handed back Slippery When Wet and she held it in her hands. Her eyes went from the plastic tape to his face. He seemed defeated, his eyes focusing on the road ahead. They stopped at another red light, the silence was deafening, not even the outside noise of cars passing by on the other side of the road could be heard. Chrissy reached out and brushed back a curly lock behind his ear.

“Eddie, I love you baby.”

He believed her, she would never lie about admitting how she felt about him. And she was right, he was jealous and he felt so idiotic for feeling like this. Who was he to tell Chrissy what she could and couldn’t listen to?

“I know.” He looked at her loving smile, “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

She bent forward and pecked his cheek, “I’m sorry for yelling too. And maybe I could take it easy with Bon Jovi for a bit.”

He smiled back at her, “No sweetheart, you play whatever you want to.”

She tugged at her blouse, erasing the wrinkles from the material with her newly painted black nails. He fished through his locks, digits lightly scratching at his scalp. He wanted to say something else, but the words wouldn’t come to him. Chrissy thought for a moment and decided to break the silence.

She placed a supportive hand on his thigh, “You know Eddie, if the world ended tomorrow and I had to choose between him and you: I would spend my last day with you.”

He almost didn’t believe that to be the case, still he was curious, “You would?”

“Absolutely. Pretty boy rockstars like him are a dime a dozen. I want you, just you. Only you.”

His heart felt as if it was going to burst, his eyes starting to get a little watery. Eddie wiped away the tears before the light changed. And so they continued to follow the band of vehicles on the highway, passing by the next series of exits until they found the one that they needed.

The luminous spot lights hit the skies in a heavenly glow, the traffic was becoming denser the closer they got. Thank god they left when they did, otherwise they would have missed the show. Getting a parking spot was a bit hellish to find in the giant city parking structure, but they were lucky to find one. As they made their way to the stadium, Eddie had noticed that there were a number of young women in groups ranging from two to five to ten, possibly even more if they were waiting for the rest of their party. A fair amount of guys were here as well, but he wondered if they were in the same boat as him; still it was possible that maybe they were fans as well. He was so used to seeing guys at concerts that forgot that women enjoy attending as well.

Chrissy was all starry eyed and filled with glee, clinging tightly to Eddie’s arm. “Oh my god! I can’t believe it! We’re actually going to see them!”

He tried to sound enthusiastic, he didn’t want to ruin this night for her, “Yeah, this is gonna be fun.” A bold faced lie, but still there were one or two songs that he liked. Yet he couldn’t let Chrissy know about that, at least not yet.

“Eddie, I can’t thank you enough. My first real concert, and I get to spend it with you.”

He stopped walking, “You’ve never been to a concert?”

The secret was out, Chrissy gulped, her cheeks glowing, “Well, I mean… my folks would take me to those um, religious concerts that preached about jesus.” She rubbed the back of her neck, “I wasn’t allowed to go to actual concerts Eddie. My parents, well my mom, told me that girls who go to concerts are bad. And they’ll be corrupted by the ‘devil’s music’ or something stupid like that.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself when he busted out laughing, “Shit, can our town by anymore like Footloose?”

“No, god I hope not,” she snuggled into his chest as she came in for a hug. “Do you think I’m a poser Eddie?”

Eddie pecked her forehead, “No Chrissy. Tonight’s gonna be a great night. And you what? I’m glad you told me that this your first concert.” He held her close, brushing through her long strands of strawberry blonde hair. “I just want you to be happy and enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you Eddie.”

He took her hand, “Come on, let’s get you a t-shirt!”

“Right now?”

Right, she doesn’t know the basics of concert expectations and etiquette, “Absolutely, if we wait until after the show, then we’ll never get one. Let’s get you a poster too!”

The lines went along, everyone showed their tickets and made themselves comfortable within the impending building. As soon as they made it past security, Eddie hurried to get her to one of the merchandise booths. She picked out a white shirt with a photo of Jon taken from the shoulders up. His handsome smile and piercing blue eyes captivated her, hair beautifully quaffed with about half to a full can of hairspray, and he was adorned with a black button up. Two buttons were left open, two necklaces rested upon his hairy chest. He stood before a hazy purple and magenta background, with the band’s name in bright red letters above his hair. She picked out a poster of the band looking at the viewer, all of them gorgeously posed wearing the most bright and colorful clothing that most bands like them had worn nowadays. Jon being the front man presented the goods, his shirt unbuttoned and his face, like the rest of the members, made him look so enticing.

Chrissy hugged and kissed Eddie to no end, the merchant having to let them know that it was time for them to head to the next available register. With the time that they had left, they were able to find the bathroom and grab something to eat. Eddie offered Chrissy sips of his beer as they looked for their seats. To her surprise, Eddie was able to get them pretty close to the stage. The only thing standing between the audience and the stage was the protective barrier and the security guards.

He draped his arm around her, “What do you think? Pretty rad huh?”

Her eyes examined the small amount of feet between the two of them and the platform. Her cheeks began to glow a shade of light pink, her heart beating a little quicker. Her very first concert with the love of her life, and she was that close. She was going to remember this night forever.

“Thank you so much Eddie.”

He wrapped her up, “Anything for you baby.”

The concert was truly an incredible display of lights and music. Each member contributing their part to make it as spectacular as ever. For every city that they visited, each performance was going to leave the audience in awe. Chrissy’s eyes, like everyone around and behind her, focused on the group giving it their all. The booming vibrations travelled from the soles of her shoes to the top of her head, making her feel as if she were on a never ending rollercoaster of sound. She didn’t realize or notice just how loudly she screamed when Bon Jovi stepped out in all their glory. Everyone was beyond ecstatic to see the boys from New Jersey take on Indianapolis. Eddie may not have been a fan, but seeing Chrissy so happy made his heart flutter. He couldn’t hide his smile and his joy when he watched the way she sang and danced.

The songs had changed from bombastic and lively to slow and romantic. Eddie and Chrissy held one another during the band’s gentler tunes, pressing her cheek into his shirt and smiling as Jon’s vocals made beautiful music with the microphone. Eddie softly cradled the back of her head, pressing his lips to her forehead. Her tears of happiness cascaded down her face, closing her eyes as she hummed at the feeling of Eddie’s lips on her skin and Jon’s voice in her ears. Jon had then addressed the audience, talking about how great it was to be back in Indianapolis, how the tour has been, and how beautiful the ladies were; creating the loudest collective of ear piercing screams that Eddie has ever heard.

Jon flashed his boyish grin, “I bet every one here is having a pretty good time right now.” His eyes went down, blue ocean met blue skies, two pairs of smiles meeting in the middle. “You, yeah you Red, I’ve been keeping my eyes on you babe.”

Eddie’s hands protectively tightened around Chrissy, yet she couldn’t help but stare in awe. Slowly fluttering her lashes and he did the same. Eddie’s lips tightened, a part of him wanted to toss his beer at the singer, but he didn’t want to spoil this moment for her.

Jon stepped closer to the edge, whispering to one of the body guards before looking back at her, “How about you come on up here? You wanna do that?”

Chrissy was already at the barrier before the security guard offered to help her through. Eddie felt his heart sink, this can’t be happening! Chrissy bit her bottom lip as the audience cheered for her, the guard escorting her backstage and over to Jon.

He wrapped his arm around her, “What’s your name honey?”

“Chrissy!” She answered enthusiastically, vibrating with glee.

Jon chuckled, “Chrissy, what a pretty name. You havin’ fun?”

She nodded quickly, she honestly couldn’t believe that she was actually standing beside him. My god he’s so handsome! She felt so lost in those hypnotic eyes of his. A pleasant shiver crawling up her spine as his thumb caressed her shoulder.

She leaned into the mic, “This is my first concert ever! And I’m here with my boyfriend Eddie! Hi Eddie!” Chrissy waved at him, and he had to force a smile as he waved back. “He’s the best! He got us tickets as a graduation present!”

His hand made its way to her hip, “Oh yeah? What school?”

“Hawkins High!”

Jon’s side smirk was still evident, “Oh, high school sweethearts. Just like me and Dorothea.” Jon pointed to Eddie, more or less aware of the seething hatred coming from the metal head. “Eddie, guys like us are lucky to have ladies like them in our lives. Treat her right man.”

In any other context, the phrase “Treat her right” would have sounded great from Wayne or Steve; hearing it from the pretty boy front man sounded like a joke and Eddie was certainly not laughing. He could feel his eye twitch, he was more than ready to hop over the barrier and punch that little shit right in the mouth. Unfortunately Jon’s mouth aimed straight for Chrissy’s lips, thankfully she turned away in time and was gifted with a single peck on her cheek. The stadium roared with applause, Chrissy felt that if she died right there she would be a happy woman; but the clock was still ticking for her.

Jon was about offer another, but she was already making her way off the stage with the guard. She turned back and gave him a wave and blew a little kiss to him before following the large man back and regrouping with Eddie. That desire to fight him was still present, but having Chrissy hold him tightly allowed for that need to slowly, very slowly dissipate.

Jon bowed before his adoring fans, giving his bed room eyes to her once more before standing tall. “Alright, let’s give it up for Chrissy and Eddie everyone!”

After everyone applauded them, the lights dimmed low and they started up their next song. The pounding of the drums, followed by the wailing of the guitar, mixed with the melancholic bass, and finally the haunting vocals of the lead. It’s was one of Chrissy’s favorites (and Eddie’s as well): Never Say Goodbye. As the chorus was sung, Chrissy looked up and held Eddie’s face. Her thumbs drawing little circles upon the apples of his cheeks. Tears began to flow once more, her smile as radiant as the moonlight. He couldn’t stop his own tears from falling, his hands traveling along her back, one making base at the nape of her neck. One kiss is all they shared, the music and the crowd were muffled in that moment. The world had stopped, time was no longer present. All they could touch, hear, smell, and taste were each other. Lips locked in the kind of embrace that could only ever be written in a romance novel. The departure from one another was slow and steady, a tiny line of saliva still connecting them as they opened their eyes. There it was, his smile so full of wonder. Her smile was filled with hope.

The last few numbers were played and then the encore. The band stood proudly before the adoring crowd, standing side by side and giving them a bow. Waves and blown kisses were given before they made their way backstage. The real fun was set to begin in the dressing room and all they had to do was play the waiting game. The more ardent and dedicated fans were invited to party with the boys. Everything was prepared: Booze, cigarettes, weed, and condoms. Jon’s only poison for the night was a bottle of beer. He had a good laugh with Richie, discussing how they had another successful concert in the bag. Once they were ready, security brought back a group of excited fans more than willing to spend the evening with them. The band mates whispered amongst themselves, already deciding who they wanted. Jon’s eyes looked at the line up, his smile fading momentarily. Where did she go?

The old van followed slowly through the busy traffic. Chrissy was trying to fight the need to sleep, her mind replaying everything that she experienced tonight. She couldn’t stop talking about how amazing the concert was. Eddie smiled, he remembers how he felt when he went to his first concert with Wayne. The same amount of enthusiasm and passion was all there.

“I’m glad you had fun Chrissy,” he noted, taking her hand and kissing it. “It’s gonna be a while before we get home, try to get some sleep.”

She giggled, “I can’t Eddie! I’m just so happy!”

“Trust me, getting a little shut eye is necessary,” he stated calmly.

Chrissy was about to speak, but a yawn tumbled out first, “But I’m… not… tired. I’m wide awake… Eddie.”

Eddie batted his lashes, “Just close your eyes for a few minutes baby.”

She slowly nodded, another yawn soon followed, “Ok, just a few minutes.”

He looked and saw that she was out like a light some moments later. Eddie reached around and grabbed an old blanket, spreading it out and tucking her in. Chrissy shifted a bit in her sleep, nuzzling her face into the warmth of the material. Eddie’s eyes were focused on the road ahead, the busyness of the traffic had eventually calmed down. Within a matter of miles, more and more cars made their way off of the highway and main road. The world had changed as Eddie continued to drive, greeted by the familiar stretch of land decorated with corn fields and old trees. He wasn’t sure what time it was, all he knew was that in the wee small hours of the morning, the stars looked as bright as ever. The moonlight illuminating the dashboard, his hands, and Chrissy’s sleeping form.

Uncle Wayne was visiting a friend that night, so they had the place to themselves. Eddie unbuckled her and kept the blanket securely wrapped around Chrissy. Carrying her inside and easing her onto his bed. He bent down and kissed her lips once more before he locked the front door and removed his shoes. Chrissy’s footwear was next, easily slipping them off and placing them aside. He grabbed himself another blanket and snuggled close to his sleeping beauty. Holding her close and playing with the loose strands of hair.

“Edward…” she mumbled.

His whisper quiet voice rang softly in her ears, “Say goodbye. Never say goodbye. Holdin’ on, we gotta try. Holdin’ on to never say goodbye.”

[oldsoulgunsnrosesgirl]

I am so pissed uuh since last year when I found out about Aerosmiths peace out tour I wanted to go so bad cause I love them so I found out they were coming to a city near where I live but due to Steven Tyler’s vocal problems they canceled the concert but turns out there still doing the concert the 23 of this month now I mad cause if I would have known I would’ve got tickets I’m so upset 😭

[jadedrrose]

I’m honestly so mad rn. I missed out on so many concerts this year… Babymetal, Metallica, and THEN Aerosmith cancels their tour that I bought tickets for the minute they dropped…..

[flapperdame16]

concert tickets from my dad's siblings. His siblings were going to throw them away, but he kept them. He framed them with some of his own concert tickets

Uncle Joe saw aerosmith on july 10 1976

[immortalseatsus]

Amalie Arena Tickets

The schedule above shows you that the Amelie Arena hosts many events yearly. Not only is Amelie Arena home to the Tampa Bay Lightning of the NHL, but it is also a major concert venue with bands like Aerosmith and Blink-182 stopping by on their tours of North America recently!

Amalie Arena Tickets

[almosthonest]

manifesting the ticket prices go lower so i can see aerosmith on concert 🤞

[itsjbruce]

This is the Rock Party of the Summer July 28th -29th! Hocking College, Nelsonville, Ohio! Rock out to legendary hits from Van Halen, KISS, Motley Crue, Queen, Journey, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd and more – recreated in front of your very eyes!

We’ve got the best 70's, 80's and 90's tribute bands coming to Nelsonville, Ohio the Star of Hocking Hills July 28th -29th. Featuring: Hairball, Mock of Ages, Floyd Live, Skinny Molly, Sabbath, Stadium 11, Bronson Arroyo and more!

Tickets from $65 available at Starbrick Music Festival! Plenty of Camping, RV Hook Ups, Lodging packages. This concert benefits the Chris Roell Traumatic Brain Injury Foundation to promote awareness and research for mental health.

[krispyweiss]

Dead & Company “grateful” - Not Grateful - for Fans’ Unlimited Devotion

- Group breaks Aerosmith’s Fenway Park attendance record

Small-‘g’ “grateful” for its fans’ unlimited devotion, Dead & Company says it broke Aerosmith’s 2022 record for most concert tickets sold at Fenway Park.

The milestone occurred June 25 on the band’s second of two nights at the home of the Red Sox as Dead & Company moves toward the home stretch of its Final Tour.

The number of tickets hovers around the 38,000 range, depending on the source.

“Every show … has been above & beyond thanks to you all & this weekend at Fenway Park was no exception,” the group said.

“On Sunday, you helped us break the all-time attendance record for the most tickets sold in a single night (previously held by the incomparable Aerosmith). We will never forget the light & good energy you all have been bringing.

“We’re grateful!”

But they are not Grateful.

6/27/23

[brn1029]

On this date in music history….

April 27th

2013-A blue plaque was unveiled at Swansea railway station, Wales, honouring Peter Ham who co-wrote 'Without You', a hit for both Harry Nilsson and Mariah Carey. Ham who was a member of Badfinger were signed to The Beatles Apple Records label, (and enjoyed their biggest hit in 1970 with a Paul McCartney penned, 'Come And Get It'. Ham took his own life in 1975 at the age of 27.

2009 - Aerosmith

Aerosmith were to hold a free concert in Hawaii to placate angry fans who brought a legal case against them. Fans filed a class action case, which claimed the band had cancelled a sold-out show in Maui two years ago, leaving hundreds of fans out of pocket in favour of a bigger gig in Chicago. Lawyers for the would-be concert-goers said Aerosmith had now agreed to put on a new show, and would pay all expenses. Everyone who bought a ticket to the original concert would receive a free ticket.

1981 - Ringo Starr

Ringo Starr married actress and one time 'Bond girl' Barbara Bach. The pair met while filming the movie, Caveman, with Dennis Quaid and Shelley Long. In attendance at the wedding were George Harrison and Paul McCartney.

1976 - David Bowie

Customs officers on a train at the Russian/Polish Border detained David Bowie, after Nazi books and mementoes were found in his luggage. Bowie claimed that the material was being used for research on a movie project about Nazi propaganda leader Joseph Paul Goebbels.

1974 - Bruce Springsteen

A free afternoon event was held in the parking lot of the University of Connecticut, Ice Hockey Arena in Storrs. The four acts that appeared, Aerosmith Bruce Springsteen, Fairport Convention and Fat Back. Springsteen then went on to play another gig that evening at the University of Hartford in Connecticut.

1971 - The Grateful Dead

The Grateful Dead appeared at the Fillmore East in New York City. The Beach Boys also appeared on stage with the Dead, who together performed a short set of Beach Boys songs.

1969 - Pink Floyd

Pink Floyd appeared at Mothers Club in Erdington, Birmingham, England. Radio 1 DJ John Peel reviewed the gig as '...sounding like dying galaxies lost in sheer corridors of time and space'. Recordings from this show were included in the group’s 1969 album Ummagumma.

1967 - Sandie Shaw

Sandie Shaw was at No.1 on the UK singles chart with 'Puppet On A String', her third UK No.1 and the Eurovision Song Contest winner of 1967.

1963 - Little Peggy March

Little Peggy March started a three week run at No.1 on the US singles chart with 'I Will Follow Him'. At 15 years, 1 month and 13 days old, Little Peggy March became the youngest female singer to have a US No.1 record.

1957 - Elvis Presley

In a rare appearance outside the United States, Elvis Presley performed at Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto, Canada where he wore his full gold lame suit for the last time.

[thomats]

Does anyone else love attending concerts by themselves?

Or am i weird?

[bighittickets]

Aerosmith Ticket Price TUE SEP 14, 2021 at 6:30 PM | Fenway Park in Boston, MA | Section: Field Turf C6 | Row: 2 | 2 Seats BigHitTickets - $1,092.30 TickPick - $1,148.99 VividSeats - $1,207.35 StubHub - $1,283.69 SeatGeek - Not Available 100% Guaranteed! Same Seats, Same Tickets, Why Pay More? https://www.BigHitTickets.com #BigHit #BigHitTickets #stubhub #vividseats #seatgeek #tickpick #AEROSMITH #AerosmithTickets #concerttickets #concert #tickets #ticketprice https://www.instagram.com/p/COv1dNNMNoo/?igshid=wuprsrar919c