Fresh Loaf

I had a bad feeling about Morrissey’s concert at Chastain Park Amphitheater Friday, July 20. Ever since I moved to Atlanta, I’ve heard bad things about the wine-and-cheese crowds that patronize the Classic Chastain concert series during the summer: how disconnected and self-involved they are, and how they talk loudly over the music. So I decided not to go, even though I felt bad about missing the show. When I read Andisheh Nouraee’s review, I was happy I wasn’t there.

Well, Morrissey is doing a final run of U.S. dates before heading back into the studio to record a follow-up to his last album, Ringleader of the Tormentors. Shockingly, the itinerary consists solely of major markets and makeup dates from when he got sick in June and had to cancel a bunch of shows — and Atlanta! Guess he thought that Chastain gig really sucked, too. The concert happens Sunday, Nov. 4, at the Tabernacle — not one of my favorite venues, but sure to attract a livelier crowd.

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MORRISSEY AT CHASTAIN: He brought his dinner, too.

Local music lovers know well how Chastain Park Amphitheater’s dinner-theater layout and chatty, disinterested season-ticket holders can suck the life out of a concert. Last Friday, Morrissey discovered the phenomenon for himself.

Accustomed to packed venues with emotionally charged crowds, the English pop legend played to a three-quarters-full audience whose most enthusiastic fans were largely confined to the seats farthest from the stage. He attempted to make the best of the situation, starting the show by strolling up to the mic with Cheez-Its in his hands and deadpanning, “You brought your dinner. I’ve brought mine.”

He then launched into the Smiths’ 1986 classic “Panic.” But when the crowd largely failed to sing along with the song’s “hang the DJ” chant, the die was cast. He sang the hits and sang them well, but cut his set short by two songs. Annoying, but somehow appropriate. Lifeless Season Ticket Holders - 1. Morrissey - 0. Let’s hope he plays the Tabernacle next time.

(Photo by Perry Julien)

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I’m outraged.

OK.

Maybe not outraged.

Perturbed.

Certainly annoyed.

If I wore panties, they’d be in a knot.

I’m going to see Morrissey tonight at Chastain.

I hate Friday traffic. I hate Chastain traffic. I hate Friday Chastain traffic times two. I don’t want to drive tonight.

MARTA No. 38 bus runs from Lindbergh to the southern tip of Chastain Park. Unfortunately, it only runs until 8:30 p.m. It’ll get me to the show, but it won’t be getting me home. Useless. What good is mass transit if it doesn’t go where people are traveling en masse?

At least I’ll have Morrissey to soothe me.

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