Dave Feldman: Challenging ask this is, any sort of “best I’ve ever ____” question. “Best play.” “Best lay.” “Best chimichanga.” My recollection fails me too often after decades of sloppy living. All my days and nights bleed into one blob. Then there’s the issue of change: taste, style, and memory are all prone to massive rearrangement from one hour to the next. However, if answer I must, I’d have to say one of the most fun and important shows I ever saw was The Hives, fall 2004, in support of their Tyrannosaurus Hives album at Webster Hall.
By that point in my adolescence (I had just turned 15), I was voyaging into Manhattan from the suburbs of Chappaqua pretty frequently. But this trek was always for skateboarding expeditions and rarely for concerts. The only reason I was able to attend in the first place was because the then-owners were friendly with our family, living in the same suburb up north.
I was a big fan of the Hives albums that had been released up to that point and had heard stories from my brother Mike about their live spectacle. But nothing could prepare me for the lesson in showmanship my friends and I were about to be schooled in. Every line delivered to the audience by Howlin’ Pelle was the funniest thing I’d ever heard. He was part circus ringleader, part wrestling heel, all rockstar.
“The greatest band in the world is who?”
“Hives!” the packed hall responded, under command.
None of us had to lie. “This is what a frontman should look like,” I thought. I took many, many notes.
I remember I wore a brown suede jacket that was so drenched in sweat from jumping around, it was (thankfully) completely ruined by moisture and the subsequent freezing November night. Of course I caught a cold which lasted a few days, but the impact of The Hives still lingers. ❖
WYLDLIFE’s album “sorted” is out on May 16.