The Weekly Ringer

The University of Mary Washington Student Newspaper

A Spaceship Visits Virginia

2 min read

By Landon James
The psychedelic space odyssey that is arena-rock giant Boston invaded Virginia recently and took no prisoners.
On the evening of August 8, 2008, the sky above Glen Allen, Va. was filled with cosmic sounds as Boston played to a packed field at Innsbrook After Hours’ Snagajob.com Pavilion.
For a mere $25 in advance and $30 at the door, concertgoers could get as close to Boston as they wanted. Well, at least as close as the fence surrounding the gold circle seating, which cost extra.
Gary Pihl, rhythm guitar, Tom Scholz, Boston founder and pianist/organist/lead guitar, Michael Sweet, vocals and guitar, Kimberley Dahme, bass, and Tommy DeCarlo, lead singer, joined together to form the most eclectic lineup Boston has ever had.
Other than the fact that Dahme is the only female to ever grace Boston’s lineup, more interesting is the story behind the new lead singer DeCarlo.
According to news.cnet.com. Myspace played a key role in the band finding the singer.  DeCarlo, 43, was a credit manager at a Home Depot in North Carolina when the opportunity arose for him to take on a new role of leadership in one of the most progressive bands of its time.
After Boston’s lead singer Brad Delp committed suicide last year, DeCarlo posted multiple Boston covers and even a song he wrote for Delp on his Myspace page.  Encouraged by a friend to send his Myspace link to the band, DeCarlo eventually obliged and the rest is history.
When Scholz heard DeCarlo, he swore it was Delp singing. That was all he needed, and the band brought DeCarlo onto the spaceship.
Decarlo and the band more than delivered at Innsbrook and fooled many in the audience including myself.
His voice was eerie and creepily uncanny in its resemblance to the former lead singer.
Playing to the crowd’s middle-aged desires–and teenage desires as well–Boston delivered hit after hit and even threw in a gem or two that die-hard fans could enjoy.
Eventually, as a tired and musically demolished crowd licked their wounds, the lights dimmed and the band exited the stage.
The extraterrestrial presence was gone.
But only for a moment, as the band jumped into a boiling hot encore of “Smokin’” and lit the air on fire.
And as the smoke lifted, the band exited, and an extraordinary evening turned in to an ordinary drive home.