October 16th, 2009 |


Guess what? You know at least 12 Moby songs. You may not think you do—maybe you never owned a Moby CD. But it doesn’t matter; if you’ve had a TV or a radio, or had a friend with a TV or a radio in the last decade, you know at least 12. Guaranteed.

Which is part of the reason why going to a Moby concert is a surprisingly enjoyable experience! I shouldn’t say surprisingly—I like Moby. Moby’s fine. Moby’s cool. But…Moby? Yes! The truth is it should’ve been the Moby & Inyang Bassey concert because good grief did that woman carry the show. A scrawny pale bald white dude only goes so far, but add a voluptuous soulful ole-timey-gospel singer with a voice that could knock down brick walls and you have got yourself a spine-tingling performance. And my spine was simply not expecting to be tingled.

When Bassey sang “Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?” you just wanted to cry for the woman because you believed she had just suffered the most horrible tragedy in human history. But then she’d follow Moby on “We Are All Made Of Stars” and everything was OK again. And then Moby would turn the venue into a rave house—again, quite unexpected—and before you knew it you were having a blast. At a Moby concert.

Moby was also kind of funny. After asking us if we were having a good time, he explained that he really did want to make sure, since he’s pretty insecure. “When I’m dating someone I’ll often stop in the middle of sex and ask if they’re bored,” he elaborated. He also covered his own songs twice in the show: a slow, drumless version of “Southside” right after performing “Southside,” and a 1971 ballad version of “Natural Blues” following “Natural Blues.” Thankfully each was less than a minute long because that’s about how long that joke is funny.

On the way home from the concert, something unusual happened: I wished it was still the ’90s, where if I just waited long enough, Moby would come into my life in some form or another. This concert will get me through the 2000s, but I might actually need to see another one next decade. Seriously! Moby! Who would’ve thought?

Amber Hollingsworth (words + photo)