In 1985, I saw a guitarist named Stanley Jordan on the Tonight Show. I was amazed at his technique and the sounds he was able to get out of the guitar. He used a finger tapping technique similar to what you’ve seen Eddie Van Halen do up on the fretboard of the guitar. But he would play a melody, a bass line, and chords all at the same time. Most bands would have as many as three musicians creating these sounds that he was doing by himself on a guitar. I was an instant fan and I soon picked up his first album, Magic Touch. While there were various genres of music on this album, Stanley Jordan was generally considered a jazz musician.
A few years later, I saw where he was going to be the opening act at a concert at the Orpheum Theatre in Memphis. I was trying to decide if it was worth it to go see him since he was just the opener for a musician I’d never heard of name Michael Franks. I talked to a guy at work who was a jazz fan who had heard of Franks. He assured me that we would enjoy Michael Franks.
We waited until the day of the concert to decide whether we were going. We bought our tickets the night of the concert at the box office and was surprised that ended up with seats on the 8th row, close to center stage. They were seats that I would have expected to only be available the first day they went on sale.
Stanley Jordan opened the show. He played without any supporting musicians as we expected. He played long enough to make it worth the trip regardless of what we thought of Michael Franks. After an intermission, Michael Franks started his portion of the show. His music was typical 1980’s smooth jazz. I remember it being nice, light music with a Caribbean flavor that would be hard not to enjoy. About 3 songs into his part of the show I realized that every song had about the same rhythm and feel. It was like I was stuck listening to elevator music on repeat. While it was pleasant, it was a little monotonous.
Then I started paying attention to the crowd around us. They were really into this music. They knew these songs. When he was between songs, the crowd would shout out the names of songs they wanted to hear. I felt like an alien that had landed on a planet of strange people that knew everything about Michael Franks. It probably didn’t help that we were seated in the good seats with all the die-hard fans. I remember one of the songs that people were yelling for was called Popsicle Toes. I thought that this can’t be a real song but later, he was singing it. And it sounded like every other song he did that night.
While we had a good enough time at the concert, I didn’t come away a Michael Franks fan. I don’t think I’ve ever intentionally listened to his music since that night except an occasional search for Popsicle Toes on streaming services just to remember how much I didn’t care for it.