The Show That Started It All.

I've seen a lot of live shows. I've definitely seen more shows than you. Seriously, I have. I mean, you name it-- everything from Kenny Loggins to the Donkey Shows in TJ, yer ol' Babs has been there. And you know what? Lately I've been thinking: Babs, this isn't fair. It isn't fair to the people to experience the wonderment of these shows and keep them all to yourself. Shine your light on the world.

And by "light," of course, I mean inane banter about shit I do, shows I see, and stuff I like, which includes (but is by no means limited to) music, live performances, and if ever I'm feeling like a real upper, relevant commentary on the economic shithole that our country can't dig its way out of.

Last night, I was at a show your mom would've LOVED.

I mean, just look at this kid! This is the guy my moms always hoped would show up on my doorstep in high school.

Oh, hello, Mrs. Silverwood! I'm here to take your daughter Babs to the Sock Hop. My, you look lovely on this fine evening. I'll be sure to have Babs home at a decent hour, so you tell Mr. Silverwood not to worry. I'll be singing in the church choir this Sunday, so I hope to see you there!

Unbeknownst to Mom, we hightail it outta there in his older brother's El Camino and he devirginizes me (Party in the Back, not to be confused with Business in the Front) in the parking lot behind the Quik-E-Mart. 2 minutes later, I'm curled up in the fetal position, crying in the truck bed, feeling dirty and shameful, yet strangely exhilarated.

That's kind of how I felt after watching Jared Lee's set at Hotel Cafe last night.

So the first few songs I'm thinking, aw. Boy-next-door looks, a menace on the keyboard, great set of pipes, accessible song structure, juuuuuuust the right pinch of sensitive brooder-- true radio-friendly pop goodness. Totally not my style, but I get it. He's the bastard love child of Maroon 5 and Jason Mraz, and what squealing demographic of young teeny-boppers wouldn't mess their panties over a combo like that? Good for him.

Then it dawned on me-- I kinda like it! Wait, what? Why the hell am I enjoying this? There's nothing immediately interesting or innovative going on, nothing I haven't heard before a MILLION times on STAR, KIIS, KOST, KBIG or my mom's American Idol iPod mix... so what is it?

Then I just let the burning shame wrap me up like a warm blanket and succumbed to it. He's good. Alright? I said it. He's a talented guy with a solid vocal range, a working mastery of the keys and some good ol' wholesome baseline stage presence. The songs were well written and well performed. A fair degree of well-executed vocal improv indicated sufficient confidence. He backed himself with a talented group of musicians. What the hell else can you ask for from a quick 45-minute set at an intimidating venue?

If he shakes off a bit of a newbie vibe (my understanding is that he's fairly new to town and has only played a few live sets), stays vulnerable and really lets 'er rip over the next couple of gigs, he should pick up a lot of momentum and gain quite a following.

I didn't go running from the set to pick up the CD and bumper sticker, but I'd check out his next show, for sure. And this time, I'll bring Mom.