Favorite shows covered the Spectrum

The Spectrum opened in 1967 and, along with the Flyers and the Sixers, dozens of musicians played there. It is closing October 31, after the last of four Pearl Jam concerts. Here are some readers' favorite memories:

Marc B. Zingarini, Philadelphia:

The memories of the Spectrum which are most vividly etched in my mind are those from the '70s. Concert-going was a much different experience back then; much more down and dirty. The air was always thick with pot smoke, the floor sticky with spilled beer (which was sold for the duration of the show, no matter how long into the evening or early morning hours), people held up matches for encores rather than cell phones, any band worth seeing showed up several hours late, and the concourse was usually littered with people who passed out before the first note was even played. And of course, who can forget the ability of Deadheads to be able to spin around in a circle for about three hours without getting dizzy? I usually spent most Dead shows out in the concourse watching the dancing rather than inside watching the band. Ah — those were the days.

While in high school, I never seemed to have the connections to get tickets to the big names of the early '70s, so it was a matter of going down to the Spectrum just for the concert experience, or to go see whatever show the guy who had a driver's license got tickets for. That would be the only explanation for being there for such acts as Slade and Beck, Bogart and Appice. I do remember once having tickets to see the Doors, but my mother wouldn't let me go after hearing about Jim Morrison's on-stage antics.

I saw my first-ever concert there — Ten Years After and Bo Diddley. (I was mesmerized by Alvin Lee's guitar-face on the big screen in Woodstock) — just had to see them.

Before I had a license, I had to take the train down from Trenton to go to shows. I recall being so enthralled by the Lou Reed/Brian Auger's Trinity Express concert that my friend Terry and I missed the last train back to Trenton and had to spend the night in the Greyhound bus terminal popping quarters into the armchair TVs they had until the testing patterns came on and then catching the 6 a.m. bus. My parents were really happy about that one.

The best show I ever saw there — it had to be Bruce in August 1978 touring in support of the Darkness [on the Edge of Town] album. From the opener, "Summertime Blues," to closing with Gary Busey doing "Rave On," there was just amazing power and energy coming from that stage that I'll never forget. He remains the greatest live performer in the history of American music. I'll be there again when he does his final shows.

Trip McClatchy, Havertown:

The Spectrum and music can be summed up in two words… Bruce Springsteen. I've seen Springsteen and the E Street Band there 24 times, none more memorable than Dec. 9, 1980, the night after John Lennon died. After some show-must-go-on soul-searching, Springsteen opened with these remarks:

"It's a hard world that asks you to live with a lot of things that are unlivable. And it's hard to come out here and play tonight, but there's nothing else to do."' And then he launched into a ferocious, life-affirming Born to Run and ended three hours later with a cathartic, joyous Twist and Shout, a note-perfect Lennon tribute and the start of the healing process for a grief-stricken rock community.

Seeing Rod Stewart and The Faces in May 1973 was a life-changing, family-enhancing experience. After paying for our sister's ticket so she would drive, my brother Scott (age 12!!) and I knew we'd spend the rest of our life chasing nights like these, and he morphed from annoying little twit in the other bed to fellow lifelong music freak and a fine rocker in his own right. Not to mention his first concert was much more memorable than my youngest brother Kevin's first show, Kansas, in 1977, where the 14-year-old little nipper fell dead asleep, only to be roused from his slumber by a bombastic Carry On Wayward Son. I still have not forgiven him.

There was the spectacular 1974 triple bill of Slade (hard to believe they headlined the Spectrum), Jo Jo Gunne, and Brownsville Station, where my dad drove me and two other couples to the big show. Slade were tremendous but me dateless was a disturbing trend that would unfortunately continue for the rest of the decade.

After Springsteen (24 times) and Rod Stewart (7), the artist I saw most often at the Spectrum was The Beach Boys. That was a surprise to me (the spreadsheet never lies), but they were a tons-of-fun, raise-the-roof, loaded-with-hits concert attraction in the mid-'70s. This was not the "genius" Beach Boys, but the ultimate party band. Still no dates.

In December 1975, I witnessed a pulverizing set by The Who, still the loudest show I've ever seen, and Townshend's windmill remains rock's most electrifying move. The next year featured a solo Cat Stevens and a goosebump-inducing Paul McCartney and his Wings Over America tour. My one and only brush with a Beatle!

Other memorable shows include a Live at Budokan-inspired, world-conquering Cheap Trick, with blistering openers Graham Parker & The Rumour in 1979, a height-of-his-powers Prince in 1984, and Paul Simon's genre-busting 1987 Graceland tour.

Shows at the Spectrum were all about a shared experience with like-minded souls, making instant brothers and sisters out of complete strangers. I can only assume that was the appeal of The Grateful Dead, whose audience I enjoyed much more than their music in my lone Dead experience in September 1988. A half-hour drum solo? Hard to believe, Harry. Another lowlight was a somnolent Stevie Winwood show in 1986, a bloodless outing with my then-girlfriend's family. Maybe the no-date '70s weren't such a bad idea after all.

By 1990, I was pretty much done with the big rock show in hockey rinks. My concert jones became fulfilled by club and small theater shows. There would still be the occasional Springsteen show, but other than The Boss only Tom Petty (1990), Beck (1997), The Cure (2008) and Green Day (2009) have been able to lure me back to the cavernous venue in the last 20 years. The Cure I got to experience with my daughter, and Green Day with my 12-year-old son. The excitement I saw in them brought me back to that 1973 Rod Stewart show.

The circle remains unbroken.

John J. Edwards, Broomall:

I have seen many shows at the Spectrum theater, however, the show that stands out for me occurred Dec. 16, 1977. The band Kansas was scheduled to play on a Saturday evening in early December of that year. This was/is my favorite band and I was going to see them live and in color at the Spectrum.

I was a senior in high school and had the good fortune to have a friend whose mother was employed as a seasonal cashier at the old Sears store located in St. David's. This meant that his mother had access to the Sears Ticketron outlet, meaning she had the inside track on being the first person in line to score tickets at the 10 a.m. moment that the tickets went on sale.

Kansas was a hot ticket at that time, coming off the 1976 release of Leftoverture. The release of Point of Know Return in 1977 was a high point for not only the band, but also my progressive rock-loving, ice-hockey-playing high school senior friends from the Philly suburbs. The album was a clear first choice for us at the high school parties of the day.

My memory flashes back to a cold late fall Saturday night in December 1977, riding with my friend to the show in his parents' Triumph TR7. His mom had succeeded in her ticket procurement beyond our wildest expectations, with floor seat tickets that were in the 8th row, dead-center stage. This was cool.

This was Kansas at its musical and commercial peak, with original band members Robby Steinhardt (violin, vocals), Steve Walsh (keyboard, vocals), Kerry Livgren (keyboards, guitar), Rich Williams (guitars), Dave Hope (Bass), and Phil Ehart (drums).

The lights dimmed. The sparking of lighters signaled not only welcoming torchiere's to the band, but also the practical function of lighting the "cigarettes" and pipes of many. The curtain lifted to a backdrop of the Point of Know Return back album cover on a huge banner behind the band. The music started and I was immediately taken with the volume. I had never heard music as loud, before or since.

Musical highlights of the show for me personally were many, however for the sake of brevity, I will present only the most memorable. The huge flash pot that erupted behind the gong struck by drummer Phil Ehart, and the crowd's roar, concluding the song "Miracles Out of Nowhere" remains a visual image I can conjure to this day.

The image of long-haired violinist Robby Steinhardt standing at center stage at the conclusion of "Sparks of the Tempest" is another flash bulb memory that has stayed with me. An eerie emerald-green light directly behind him from the floor was the only source of light in the building and as the rest of the band slipped off stage to the loop of the last power chords of the song, Steinhardt lifted his arms and stretched them out with violin in one hand, bow in the other, head tilted onto his right shoulder, the perfect image of the crucifix bathed in green illumination.

Experiencing the songs Carry on Wayward Son and Dust in the Wind when they were both fresh and new and relatively undiscovered, lent a sly feeling of being "in the know" to the event. The orchestral flourishes of the song Cheyenne Anthem, the Keith Emerson-like keyboard wizardry of Steve Walsh on the instrumental The Spider, and the kinetic closing number of Down the Road were also highlights. An encore of the fitting Magnum Opus was the only encore that night — a 15 minute version that allowed all band members to flash their musical chops.

As I said recently to a friend, if I am afforded the luxury of an afterlife, I would request that a re-living of this event be a part of a review of my earthly experiences. The only part of this experience I would prefer to omit would be the three days immediately following the show, during which my ears rang incessantly!

Ted DeCerchio, Upper Darby:

I go back to 1968, when Sinatra was in rare form that summer performing for Hubert Humphrey's presidential campaign. I remember summer 1970, seeing Chicago perform the entire Side 2 from 2nd album (Make Me Smile, Color My World), I saw Jefferson Airplane & John Mayall while the Vet was being built, Sly & Family Stone…: Dylan & the Band 1974, Frank & Ella together 1975: We took a class trip to Rome in 1968, & our Art teacher, Mr. Roth, commented that the Pantheon was 2000 years old & had never lost its roof while the Phila. Spectrum was 1 yr. old & had already lost its roof.Patty Potter, Alexandria, VA:

It would be hard to choose just one concert at the Spectrum as the most memorable for me. I remember that my first concert at the Spectrum was Yes in 1972, when I was a high school student. As a kid living in the suburbs, I'll never forget the excitement of traveling to the city to witness my first "real" rock concert.

There were dozens of trips to the Spectrum for concerts after that first night. Bruce, Journey, Elvis, Fleetwood Mac, Queen, Billy Joel, Jefferson Starship, Hall and Oates, Fleetwood Mac, Foreigner, Electric Light Orchestra, Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, Billy Joel, and David Bowie were just some of the many shows that kept me coming back to the Spectrum again and again.

I count those nights at the Spectrum as some of the best of my life. They bring back memories of a time when life was carefree and the future held unlimited opportunities. We felt like we could conquer the world through our music, and in a way we did.

Tom Mottola, Mount Holly Springs, PA:

Sept. 24, 1999. The day after he turned 50, Bruce Springsteen is playing a show that had to be rescheduled because of a hurricane that blasted through the East Coast the prior week. The show had to be moved to the Spectrum because the Wachovia Center was booked. He hit the stage on fire, and never cooled off. The crowd went nuts when he opened with "Growing Up," and then spent the night delivering a fantastic performance of a bunch of rare old songs. It was a special night for Bruce, as if he wanted to prove to his most diehard fans, in the first arena he ever performed in, that age was just a number, and that at 50 he had as much passion as ever. An unforgettable night for every Bruce fan that was lucky enough to be there, and easily the best concert I have ever attended.

Michael A. Ginsberg, Philadelphia:

I'm 44 and have been to the Spectrum more times than I can remember, seeing easily over 200 concerts there, from AC/DC and Black Sabbath (within three days of each other) to the Dead to Stevie Wonder. Here are a few of my favorite memories, in no particular order (for the most part):

1. My all-time favorite memory is taking my then-3-year-old daughter to see Barney in February 2003. I'd always hated Barney and, had it not been for my loving parents giving her a few videos of him, my daughter would not have known who he was. Maddie saw the commercial for the show one night on TV and asked if we could go. Normally, I would have begged my lovely wife to go to the show but I'd already gotten her to agree to see George Strait with me that month and she told me that she would either see Barney or George, not both. So I bundled Maddie up on a cold winter afternoon, along with a bag full of diapers and headed to the Spectrum. One changed diaper and $20 in souvenirs later, Maddie and I were in our seats as the show started. Five minutes into it, Maddie tugged my hand and said, "I wanna go home." Normally, the chance to leave a live Barney show this early would have been a no-brainer, but I'd paid good money for these tix, we were near the stage, and I was determined that this first major father-daughter outing of of our lives was not going to end prematurely. I convinced Mad to wait a few more minutes, during which time the purple dork sang, "If You're Happy and You Know It" at which point Mad decided she was there for the duration. The mass love directed towards Barney hit me like the Grinch discovering the joys of Whoville and I got major points from Mad for the experience.

2. I saw the Grateful Dead 21 times at the Spectrum, 18 of which were part of seeing them all of the shows of their three-night runs. My wife saw them with me the last 12 of these shows, and this is her favorite story from those shows. The last time Jerry Garcia played at the Spectrum with the band [March 19, 1995] became part of Dead history. "Unbroken Chain" is an obscure song sung by Phil Lesh that had never been played live, despite years of begging from Deadheads. The Daily News covered this last run of Spectrum shows and noted that the boys were doing "Unbroken Chain" during their sound checks and that, if they were going to play it live, Phil wanted to play it while his sons were still on tour with him before they had to leave to go back to school, which just happened to be right after the Philly run. After two decent shows, the band's final night at the Spectrum got off to an inauspicious start with Jerry mangling much of "Alabama Getaway" as an opener. The first set was short, only six songs or so. Just when you thought the set was over, after "Don't Ease Me In," the band continued to noodle around. The diehard heads began to roar when we recognized the beginning of "Unbroken Chain." I was screaming like a lunatic, jumping up and down, when a big hairy guy next to me tapped me on the shoulders and said, "Is this what I think it is?" and I shouted, "Yeah, it's 'Unbroken Chain!!!'" He smiled and held out his arms and we actually hugged, like old friends. My wife had no idea what the fuss was about until I hugged her too. After the song, the fans continued to cheer long after the lights went up for the intermission. When the band returned for the second set, the fans shouted, "Thank you, Phil," until the first song started. A few years ago, I met Phil Lesh at a Red Cross blood drive. My wife told him this story and he could not believe it when I pulled the ticket stub from that show out of my wallet. He signed it and it is now in a frame in our living room next to a picture of Anne, Maddie and me with Phil.

3. Metallica played the Spectrum on their And Justice for All tour in the late 80's. The Cult opened up for them. During the Cult's set, some idiot in front of the stage kept giving their lead singer, Ian Astbury, the finger. At the end of the set, Astbury threw his mic to the floor, jumped into the crowd and started fighting the idiot. A near riot ensued on the floor of the Spectrum. By the time the thing was settled, the wounded were being carried out and there was a pile of broken chairs in the middle of the floor and security was all over the place. They only lowered the lights halfway for Metallica's set. I was right next to the speakers, about ten rows off the floor. I had ringing in the ears for six months after the show.

Monique T. Mitchell, Steelton, Pa.:

When I lived in Philly, on May 18 [1973], my Dad took me to see the Jackson 5. Didn't know till years later that the Commodores opened for them. They sang all my favorite songs and Michael was spectacular. My favorite was Marlon Jackson, and he wore purple, my favorite color. I chose Marlon because everyone else was going to Michael and Jermaine and I would have Marlon all to myself. Couldn't take my eyes off them. It was a moment I will never forget. I have no idea where my souvenir program is, but I will never forget it. I had to be about 12 or 13. It was great.