Worst. Show. Ever.

by John Clarke

I decree that the upcoming double bill of Hoobastank and Nickleback will be the worst rock show in Dallas history.

Yes, that's a strong statement, seeing that Creed has played in Dallas several times, including a horrendous appearance as the half-time act at a Thanksgiving Day Cowboys game several years ago when Scott Stapp committed a huge sports faux pas by wearing a Cowboys jersey with his own name on the back.

Hoobastank/Nickleback will no doubt revel in their unoriginality, torturing the tired Pearl Jam genre with a stunning 45 minute set of songs cribbed from notes that 13-year-old girls passed around during study hall. But what will absolutely make this the worst rock performance in Dallas history is that it will be held on August 26th, outside, at the Smirnoff Music Centre. That's right --- outside in Dallas. And if the past two weeks have been any indication, it's gonna be hotter than Ace Frehley's smoking guitar on August 26th.

If The Clash reformed (Joe Strummer, God rest your soul) and played at Smirnoff on August 26th, I'd stay home. Rock is simply not meant to be seen outside. It needs darkness, a sense of foreboding, and a sticky bar that only serves low grade vodka and domestic beer.

Yeah, sure, hit me with all kinds arguments about how Woodstock was held outside and signaled a movement in rock. But for every Woodstock, there's an Altamont where people pass out and get stabbed by the Hell's Angels.

Here in Dallas, we only have the Texxas Jams from the 1980s to look back on as somewhat monumental outdoor rock performances. I'd count the Lollapaloozas, but I didn't go to those. I did go to a couple of those Cotton Bowl Jam summer events in high school. And I wouldn't have admitted it then, but they sucked. It was 4 million degrees in the stadium, there were lots of girls dressed in little or nothing there who should have left a whole lot more to the imagination, and the only way to cool off was to get hit by a freaking fire hose shot from the stage. Then, after sitting through Uriah Heap, Jam goers were rewarded by the rock opera performance by Styx doing the supremely retarded "Mr. Roboto" theatrics.

So go on. See Hooba's stank at the Smirnoff if you want. But don't ask for your nickle back when the smell of your own wretchedness makes the exit gate look like a really good idea before the opening act has even played their last note.

This story originally appeared on John's blog

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