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02/07/05 - CLIPPERS MAGAZINE
STADIUM, LANCASTER, PA Review
by Lancaster Online:
Def Leppard and Bryan Adams were in town Saturday night,
and Lancaster partied like it was 1989. Or maybe 1889. More on that in a second.
Call it a marriage of old and new. Women in their late 30s with big hair and plenty
of makeup wandered along with pre-teens in their wake. Guys with mullets and sleeveless
Union Jack T-shirts yapped into cell phones. And then there was the fact that
a contingent of the crowd stage left at Lancaster’s brand spanking new Clipper
Magazine Stadium was Amish. A group of 20 to 30 boys, most of them in their mid
to late teens, danced and bounced off another — and, occasionally, other
concert-goers — with increasing frequency as Def Leppard’s set wound
to a raucous close, prompting security to step in on several occasions. Security
would retreat and the kids revved up again, guzzling beers they’d somehow
obtained, smoking cigarettes, clapping each other on the shoulders and generally
have a grand old rock and roll time.
Plain or
fancy, the sentiment was in ample supply Saturday night. Some 10,000 tickets were
sold for the concert, making it the biggest event at Clipper Magazine Stadium
by far; in addition, children under 12 were admitted free with a ticket-holder,
meaning the crowd easily topped 11,000. There were so many cars that Barstormers’
employees directing traffic didn’t know where to put them all, sending them
into lots they weren’t sure they were supposed to use. An hour before showtime,
the line of people waiting to get in stretched from Liberty Place all the way
to the main stadium entrance on North Prince Street. Though tailgating at such
events is supposed to be verboten, there was plenty going on. Beside a red SUV
in the Liberty Place lot, Andy Bell of Wyomissing and Deb Winsor and Amy Mercurie,
both of Pittsburgh, kicked back with some maraschino cherries marinated in alcohol
as Leppard’s “Rock of Ages” blared from the speakers. “All
I have to say is that if the drummer shows up with two arms, I’m leaving,”
cracked Mercurie. Leppard drummer Rick Allen famously lost his left arm in a 1984
car crash. Inside the show, it was largely a metal crowd — black T-shirts,
tattoos, cigarettes. Standing by a fence on the floor, however, Brent and Kimberly
Auchey and Mandy and Mike Gotwalt, all of York, seemed more subdued and conservative;
retired suburban headbangers, perhaps? “Well,” offered Brent after a
short pause, “I’m not wearing any underwear.” No proof was sought.
Both
Def Leppard and Bryan Adams played Live 8 shows Saturday, with Leppard playing
in Philadelphia and Adams playing in Toronto. Saturday night’s crowd was
a Leppard crowd, though; it was also a thirsty crowd, as workers at the concession
stands reported selling significantly more beer than during the Willie Nelson-Bob
Dylan show a few weeks ago. “But it’s also hotter tonight, too,”
said one concessionaire. So were the bands. After the acoustic stylings of opening
act Randy Coleman faded away, Def Leppard hit the stage like a whirlwind, the
mirrored pickguard on Phil Collen’s guitar flashing under the green stage
lights. It was a greatest-hits revue, exactly what the crowd wanted; opening with
“Action,” followed by “Let’s Get Rocked”; the crowd really
started to arm up with “Hysteria,” and the younger, new-school portion
pumped fists and fingers in the air for Leppard’s newest single, a cover
of Badfinger’s “No Matter What.” All the while, the Amish kids
were partying hard. “How old do you think those kids are?” a woman asked
this reporter. Dunno —16, maybe? “They are drinking beer and smoking
cigarettes,” she said in a huff. And so they were. They were also getting
a bit too rowdy. A few who had hoisted teen girls on their shoulders lurched this
way and that, threatening to topple onto others in the crowd; other boys banged
into one another like pinballs, inevitably drawing the attention of the gendarmes.
Initially, yellow-shirted event staff tried to calm things down; later, uniformed
Lancaster cops joined in, standing menacingly by in an effort to get the kids
to cool down. Merv, an 18-year-old who initially gave his last name but then begged
that it not be used, summed up the experience. “This is a great rock and
roll show ... lots of women.” Mercifully, Leppard ended its set, and the
fever pitch at stage left cooled. After a brief intermission, Bryan Adams hit
the stage at 9:35 p.m. and the game was on again, though security personnel hung
back and kept and eye on the kids, who in turn cast occasional nervous glances
at the authorities. A tentative peace seemed to have been reached. Just proving,
perhaps for the first time, that rock and rumspringa were made for each other.
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