PAX-AM, poster illustration and design by Ivan Minsloff @minsloff
Only the anticipation of live Ryan Adams jams can break through the migraine hibernation mode. With visions of Ryan at The Greek dancing in my head, I loaded up on meds: hippie shit - eastern medicine, southern shit - Goody's headache medicine, allergy shit, and aromatic shit - peppermint oil over every pressure point and then some. In two-hour rotations, I’d lay in the darkness with a heating pad on my head till I passed out. I kept this up till the last possible moment then took a shower and got dressed. I left my place with hair soaked and jeans ripped.
You know you’re in the presence of a good friend when you can show up on their doorstep reeking of peppermint, in your worst favorite torn black tee, jeans and boots, with hair still dripping wet and eyes watering till your cheeks have turned pink. Fortunately, he was in a similar mode save for the peppermint oil burning nostrils and skin. For anyone else, we’d say fuck it and skip the whole thing, but for Ryan, we rallied.
We rode to The Greek with the windows down in an attempt to wake us both. We had hoped that the spirit of the concert would take over. Our faith immediately paid off, Ryan delivered a 23-track set under the LA sky with lights red, blue and purple illuminating the stage with jams so huge we forgot where the track began. Ryan talked about recording a particular song, ‘just over that hill,’ he introduced another song, ‘this one is particularly miserable – I think you’ll appreciate it.’ It never gets old, celebrating this hometown boy and our shared adopted home of LA. In this land, the misfits can rise above the hills, and even rise out of bed.
P.S. If you know where this fangirl can get the cat constellations concert poster from this show, please send me an email and help right this concert-going wrong!
