Dave Matthews Band 2008-07-20
Mile High Music Festival
Denver, CO

AT 853 sub-cards> CA ST9100> H120 (Rockboxed)
recorded/tracked/uploaded by westkc3

Track 5 includes a verbal assault from an individual who took exception to the tapers attempt to hold the mics in position rather than part way for him as he barged thru the crowd.
The things tapers suffer to bring quality music to the masses.

Please check out the tapers story in the info file. 


1  Don't Drink The Water
2  You Might Die Traying
3  Eh Hee
4  Two Step
5  Proudest Monkey
6  Satellite
7  Cornbread
8  Sledgehammer (Peter Gabriel)
9  Stay (Wasting Time)
10 Old Dirt Hill (Bring That Beat Back)
11 Jimi Thing
12 #41
13 Tripping Billies
14 So Damn Lucky
15 So Much To Say
16 Too Much
17 Ants Marching
18 Gravedigger
19 Lousiana Bayou
20 Thank You For Letting Me Be Myself Again (Sly And The Family Stone)

Day 2: A Tapers Story
The first day of the festival, Saturday,  was a roaring success despite the scorching heat.  We arrived about 1/2 hour earlier than we'd planned and had time to check the venue out a bit, we caught most of the acts we'd panned and by nightfall it had cooled off nicely. Sunday late morning I began gathering my essential recording equipment making certain I had everything, batteries and recorders were fully charged.  I told my daughter I was going to put the tickets in her backpack.  We gathered everything, jumped into the car and headed to the festival. Traffic seemed much heavier than Saturdays, a combination of our latter departure and the days two headliners, John Mayer and Dave Matthews.  We got about 1/2 mile from the parking lot entry when we came upon an individual looking for a ticket. My sister had decided not to attend the second day as the previous days walking and standing for hours played havoc with her bad knee. So I had an extra ticket.  Traffic was stopped at this point and people were getting out of their cars to see what was going on.  So I got out of the car, told the individual I had a ticket for sale.  I opened the back door, opened my microphone case where I typically keep the tickets, they're not there.  I remember I was going to put them in my daughters backpack so I tell her to look. She can't find them.  I begin looking under the seats thinking maybe they blew off the seat while driving.  Nothing.  Now I'm really getting nervous.  I seem to recall having taken them from the mic case and placing them on the kitchen table in preparation for placement into the backpack.  We call the house, yup, there they sit right where I'd left them.  I start beating myself up verbally for being such scatter brain.  I recall a time in my you when a buddy traveled from KC to St. Louis to see the Grateful Dead.  Thing is, he went a week early.  (I won't tease him about that anymore.)  This weekend was part of the birthday booty for my daughter and I felt really bad. She said we could just go home but with traffic such as it was, we couldn't begin to turn around, plus, John Mayer and Dave Matthews were two of the acts she was really looking forward to.  I tell her I'll bit the bullet and buy two more tickets at the box office.  I'd have purchased from someone selling along the roadside but I don't have that much cash and hey, they don't take credit cards.  So we get parked and make our way to the box office.  I get to the window, ask for two and the woman says $200.  Wait a minute, single day tickets are $85.  Nope, they jacked the prices up.  I walk away to think about it.  I tell my daughter and she says let's just go home, "I'm over it".  But the look of disappointment on her face is obvious.  I think to myself, it's only money and walk back to the ticket window.  I tell the agent I only need two to go with the three I have sitting on the kitchen table.  She says "did you buy them online?".  I respond "yes".  She asks if I'd purchased them with the credit card I had just handed her, again I answer "yes".  She swipes the card looks at the screen and says "not with this card".  I look at the card, ooops, that's a government Visa, NOT my Wells Fargo debit card.  They  look very similar.  I hand the agent the Wells Fargo card.  She swipes it, looks at the screen and after a short pause says, "here we go" and the printer spits out three tickets.  So now the smile on my face is matched only by the look of glee my daughter is exhibiting.  We start making our way to the entry and I see a gal headed to the ticket window so I ask "looking for a ticket?"  She says "yes".  I tell her I have one I'll let go for $80.  She starts digging for cash, I see a $20.  I see another &20.  I see a $10.  I tell her just give me what you have there and that's good.  (Turned out she gave me $60.)  We make our way thru the gate and immediately head down the paved road behind several stages.  We get almost to the main stage when a security staffer tells us we have to go back.  We head back toward the entrance and about 40 yards away we see an entrance.  We head in but again a security staffer tells us we can't enter here.  You see this individual thought we were trying to re-enter the venue.  My daughter, a strong willed assertive individual,  says she's going in and proceeds to walk thru.  I on the other hand stay to argue the point with security.  After 5 minutes she says she's going to call someone in authority, I ask her to please do so.  The supervisor shows up, listens to my story and agrees, I can enter.  I pull out my phone to call my daughter so we can meet.  No signal.  I make my way to the main stage check the phone again, no joy.  Now normally this wouldn't be an issue as she would go her own way and I mine.  But wait, she has my preamp!  These mics are terminated with mini XLRs.  I have no way to connect to the recorder without the pre.   I resign myself to not being able to capture the shows I planed to and settle in to a comfortable spot dead center of main stage.  I periodically check the phone and finally get a signal and there's a message from my daughter.  I tell her where I am and she finds me.  By now John Mayer is about to start, early.  I quickly assemble my rig and press record.  Several hours later I have recordings of two of the shows my daughter wanted most.
The swings in karma had us despondent one moment and joyous the next.  I'm not quit sure what to make of the whole experience but I'm certain there are several lessons in here somewhere.  In hind site, I think I should have simply given that third ticket to that gal to appease the musical Gods and ensure future good fortunes.  Oh well, those service fees I pay for all these concerts should keep me covered for some time.

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