Friday’s Jim Irsay Collection concert was rife with irony
Jim Irsay giving his vocal rendering of Warren Zevon’s “Lawyers, Guns, and Money.”
The opening song Indianapolis Colts owner Jim Irsay performed at Lucas Oil Stadium on Friday night was Warren Zevon’s “Lawyers, Guns, and Money.” Considering the way he leaned on Central Indiana taxpayers to get Lucas Oil built to host the Colts, it seemed oddly appropriate. (The Colts begin their 39th season Sunday,)
But there was a lot that was odd—a lot that was unusual—about this concert. Take the fact that the Jim Irsay Band came to Indy with his massive collection of rock memorabilia— “The Jim Irsay Collection”—in tow, on display at Lucas Oil Friday afternoon and evening.
Irsay sang the Zevon tune sitting down. It was just as well because his Cookie Monster meets Tom Waits voice couldn’t stand up for the task. Carrying the tune was left to his all-star back up band. This consisted of bassist Mike Mills, formerly of R.E.M., guitarist Kenny Wayne Shepherd, and drummer Kenny Aronoff, to name a few. Aronoff, an IU School of Music grad, is a longtime member of John Mellencamp’s band and highly-sought after session and touring musician in his own right.
Fortunately, Irsay soon ceded singing responsibility to others—although he would be back onstage later. Mike Mills sang fine renditions of the R.E.M. classics “Don’t Go Back to Rockville” and “Superman” while animated visuals of the caped crusader flashed on the screen behind him. When Kenny Wayne Shepherd took the lead on guitar, as he did quite often throughout the evening, his love of the instrument, and his virtuosity with it, were clear.
But that passion was equaled or exceeded by another legendary guitarist, blues icon Buddy Guy. After he took the stage to perform “Damn Right I’ve Got the Blues,” and other songs, I was amazed to see him perform with such vitality—and feistiness as he sometimes veered into sexual innuendo with his lyrical digressions. After all this is an 86-year old man. May he keep performing well past 100!
But all of the special guests on Friday evening, at the seventh concert in a multi-city tour, have been around for a while now.
When John Hiatt took the stage, he acknowledged his Indianapolis roots before launching into “Real Fine Love,” which was recorded in 1990. It’s a song that recounts his leaving the Hoosier state for Tennessee “in the back of a pickup truck,” and the lyrical flourishes demonstrate why he is considered by many to be one of America’s finest songwriters. My favorite moment of the evening, though, was when he performed “Perfectly Good Guitar,” a song that makes reference to the performance by Nirvana where bassist Krist Novoselic launched his guitar up into the air only to have it crash down on his head. “The revenge of a perfectly good guitar,” he said, introducing the song. You might take this song as an older musician wagging his finger at younger musicians, but Pete Townsend of The Who, who inaugurated the trend of bashing guitars in the 60s, is seven years older than Hiatt. Go figure.
Another special guest in the septuagenarian range was Ann Wilson, who was the lead singer for Heart. She performed three Led Zeppelin songs “Stairway to Heaven,” “Immigrant Song” and “Rock ‘N Roll.” Though she and the backing band performed competently enough, I think she might have been better off with her own material. That is to say, the band’s renditions lacked the energy and the clarity of the originals.
From left to right: Mike Mills performing, Mills will backing singers, Jim Irsay, Buddy Guy and Kenny Wayne Shepherd.
Clarity was sometimes a problem, at least from where I was standing, on the stadium floor, 150 feet or so from the stage. At one point—I forget during which song—a musician launched into a sax solo, but I could barely hear it. At one point I counted 18 singers and instrumentalists onstage. You know what they say about too many cooks.
The most ridiculous moment of the night came when a dude dressed like the Princess of Monaco's butler brought to the stage the Fender Stratocaster played by Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour, which Irsay purchased at a charity auction for almost $4 million. Kenny Wayne Shepherd used said Stratocaster to perform the solo on the Pink Floyd song “Comfortably Numb” as Irsay vocally dissected it. (I’m hesitant to use the verb sing here.) By that time, Irsay had already given his vocal rendition of Trent Reznor’s “Hurt,” but in mode of Johnny Cash’s cover version. Honestly, this was one of the worst things I’ve ever heard in my life, despite the competence of the backing band. But after these two songs, Irsay wasn’t done. He proceeded to butcher the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter.” All of these songs uncomfortably recalled Irsay’s well-documented history of substance abuse.
I suppose most of those in attendance were willing to forgive or to ignore Irsay’s slaughtering of rock classics, especially since the climax of the evening involved John Mellencamp leading a sing-along rendition of “Jack and Diane.” You certainly have to give him some credit for gathering all these musicians together. You also have to give him some credit for organizing this free concert (unless you factor in the roughly $600 million Central Indiana taxpayers still owe on Lucas Oil). But for me the irony of Irsay reigning like a king over his collection of all-star musicians, memorabilia, and audience—in the house that he ordained to be built—was too rich to ignore.
