What time is it?

Last night the BF and I went to see Morris Day and the Time at BAM. If you are too young to remember "Purple Rain," then you likely don't remember Morris Day and the time (o wee o weee o). They were part of the same minneapolis music scene that produced (or perhaps I should say "spawned," meaning that in the nicest possible way...) Prince. In fact, I guess Prince actually put the band together, but I don't really know the genesis of Time (heheh). Prince happens to be an idol of mine. In fact, I look like him. That is, I would if I were male and black. Or even if he were just clean shaven. Anyway, that has nothing to do with Morris Day.

The concert was AMAZING, if you like your concerts interactive. If you like to sit back in your seat and "appreciate," then this ain't for you, they MAKE you get up and dance. In fact, they made a lot of women get up on the stageand dance. I was not one of them (I actually hunkered down in my seat due to an attack of bad-hair related shyness). The band sports a retro old movie gangster look, Morris Day fronts in velvet pimpwear, and Jerome Benton...what can anyone say about Jerome Benton? He's the court jester, the trickster god, the ...whatever. He roams through the audience insulting people and flirting, flings himself into athletic contortions, grabs his crotch with alarming frequency, and has an ongoing, onstage battle with a basket of drumsticks, which are dropkicked, tossed, caught, juggled, broken, thrown, used as props, and used as weapons against the drummer (Jelly Bean)'s wall o' sound beats.

I liked also that the music was somewhere between funkadelic and prince, with some led zepplin tossed in there for good measure. The opening song sounded seriously heavy metal.

In all, it was pretty awesome. 3 hours went by and I thought it was about 45 minutes.
And, yes, they played "jungle love." O wee O wee O. If only the Lexingon Ave subway would change its tune. sigh.