YNGWIE in CHICAGO

The show flier, my ticket stub, and a guitar pick that Yngwie flung into the crowd. I’ve kept these things all this time…

On this day 20 years ago I was in the House of Blues in Chicago, having walked just a few blocks from my dorm on Michigan Avenue (It’s now classroom space, not dorms, but I kept my elevator floor sign before the demolition started).

I’d only been in the city a short time. This was my first trip out for a concert – OK, sure; lame choice. From my room across from the Art Institute it was just a short walk west, then north over the river, toward the “corn cob towers.” Just a few years later they’d be featured on the iconic Wilco record Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. If only I’d been to see them that night.

Yngwie was effervescent and shrill that night. Loping around the stage, posing before his stack of Marshall amps, and gratuitously clanging his numerous bracelets and bangles against the neck/fret board of his trusty Strat.

He was bursting from his leather? vinyl? spandex? pants. He was in full hair-band-era-cry. Hair teased so high, chest exposed by some combination of V-neck shirt or vest or Pirate jerkin… who knew?

In any case it was glorious. Furious. SO. LOUD. Riotous and ridiculous and raw. He gave his all, flinging guitar picks and sweat with abandon. My ears RANG for hours after, and were even stunned the next morning. It was epic. I can still recall the feel of the cool midnight air chilling me as I rushed back to my dorm room for a smoke and a reprise of Rising Force.

Yngwie. So many arpeggios, so little time.

2 thoughts on “YNGWIE in CHICAGO

  1. Reminds me of the time a chum and I went to see Uriah Heep play at some unlikely suburban venue. Seated less than 8 feet from a speaker stack, my ears rang for three days after. Now, of course, they ring all the time. :)

  2. This may be clue. I have no idea who that artist was but I bet he is gone. I show my ignorance. If you still hold these physical things I fear too think what other things you might have tucked away and what on earth for? You remember, photograph it. The world no longer has room or the space for all the little bits people are trying to hang on to. We gotta download. Do house cleaning. Without loosing a thing.

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