Amy Martin’s review of Ray LaMontagne at the Civic Center was spot on. I hadn’t heard much of Ray’s music — went to the show for Guster — and was taken away with his passionate performance and superstar backup band.
But criminy, the glow of hundreds of cell phones, the incessant texting, and the chattering teenies at Civic Center all but ruined the experience. At one point, my companion leaned back and pointed down the row. There they were, the three girlfriends, staring into their cell phones, pointing, and giggling, and yelling over the music.
It’s too difficult to get into Ray LaMontagne’s music when the worst of you — the desire to kick a teenager in the head — takes over.
James Sabatino
Portland
Topics:
Letters
, Ray LaMontagne, Amy Martin
