Concertgoers did not run through the opened gates for Wednesday’s Boston concert at the LC Pavilion.
Instead, they walked — nonchalantly — as if remembering a similar concert from another time.
I was easily outnumbered by baby boomers who proudly wore vintage Boston T-shirts and chain necklaces or nearly-worn-through tie-dye. But this isn’t the ’70s anymore, when the rock ‘n’ roll band started. Once-young faces were aged next to mother-daughter, father-son pairs.
Guitarist Scotty Bratcher opened the show with a 45-minute set that boasted guitar solos and long intros. I drowned in the long instrumentals and blues-inspired chord progressions.
The humid air that had crawled on my skin all day suddenly lifted, something for which I blame Boston. The band lifted spirits, too, as it walked on stage.
Earlier, I heard a few concertgoers humming the lines to “Smokin’,” which they had predicted correctly to be in the set — but only after the opener, “Rock and Roll Band.”
By “Feelin’ Satisfied,” nobody in the LC was still sitting on a blanket.
Guitarist and songwriter Tom Scholz hadn’t said a word up until he was ready to introduce a new song that was a namesake to the band’s upcoming album: “Life, Love & Hope.”
Once the intro started, I no longer felt so out of place. I might only be in my 20s, but just like everyone else there, I was hearing this song for the first time.
Boston kept its traditional, rock ‘n’ roll vibe with smooth vocals, but fused it with a new rhythm.
Everyone around me acted like they had heard it a million times, and I could understand why. The song seemed comforting but refreshing all at once.
Jewel-toned lights poured out over the audience, and when “Amanda” began to play in the middle of the 21-song set, I was jealous my name wasn’t Amanda.
I connected to Tommy DeCarlo’s waving hands and flips of the tambourine during “The Launch.”
I loved the entire attitude of the band. It was not just a washed up rock ‘n’ roll band.
Despite their lost members, when “More Than a Feeling” began to play, I stood entranced, and I could tell in the eyes of the people around me that others were, too.
Scholz transitioned into an instrumental, proudly wearing an Ohio State gray cut-off.
Stage lights circled and showed a man playing an air guitar solemnly along to “A New World.”
When the band had started, I wrote down Boston’s start time at 9 p.m., but I was so lost by the time the last song, “Foreplay,” ended that I forgot to write down an end time.
The lights turned off, but only for a split second. The band predicted an encore, and, once again, delighted me with guitar and keyboard melodies in “Party.”
As I walked out of the concert gates, I slowed down my pace to that of those entering a few hours before.
It didn’t matter that it was a Wednesday night and I had to get up early the next day. All that mattered was the joy I found in Boston.