When singer-songwriter Christopher Cross unveiled his self-titled debut album in 1980, little did he know the impact it would have. With hits like “Ride Like The Wind,” “Sailing,” and “Never Be The Same,” the album went on to win five Grammy awards in 1981, including earning Cross the coveted Best New Artist and Album of The Year awards. A year later, Cross followed that success with an Academy Award win for Best Original Song with “Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do),” from the movie, “Arthur.”
In the years since, Cross has released more than a dozen acclaimed albums, from 1983’s “Another Page” and hits like “All Right,” and “Think of Laura,” to recent albums like 2018’s “Take Me As I Am” and a limited-edition box set retrospective aptly titled “The Complete Works,” which celebrates his 40th anniversary as a recording artist.
On Tuesday, Cross will bring his signature sound and legacy of carefully crafted songs to an intimate performance at the State Theatre in Easton. Joining Cross that evening will be renowned Moody Blues guitarist and lead vocalist, Justin Hayward, who will be performing a selection of his own classic hits.
I recently spoke with Cross about his upcoming performance and more in this new interview:
Q. What can fans expect during your performance at The State Theatre?
Christopher Cross: I’m a singer-songwriter so for me it’s all about the songs and playing them for the fans. One thing about the show is that there are no tracks. I have an amazing group of musicians with me who are jazz trained and very high-level players and singers. It’s a sophisticated, high-production show as far as the music goes. I’ll be playing most of the first and second album and the hits that people know. I’ve made 12 albums over the years so I’ll also be playing selections from the other albums as well. This is our first time out this year and we’re really excited.
You can read the rest of my Morning Call interview with Christopher Cross by Clicking Here!
I hope this letter finds you well. I was having a bit of trouble trying to find the right words to say as I wrote it. It’s not every day you try to put into words just how much an old high school teacher means to you. Yeah, I know, it’s been more than thirty-five years since I was a student walking those hallowed halls but believe it or not, you’re still the first person who comes to mind whenever I think about my high school experience.
Back then, you had a saying you liked to use whenever someone was having a problem. Whether it was something as simple as a homework assignment, peer pressure, or even trouble at home, whenever someone was having an issue, you’d pull that person aside and say, “Talk to me.” Those three words became your mantra, and I guess in a way that’s what I’m doing now, talking to you.
I never told you this before, but you played a huge role during the most fragile and formative years of my young life. Like so many other teenagers trying to find their place in the world, I didn’t fit in well in high school, but your choir class was the one place I could go where I felt like I completely belonged. You taught me how to sing and how to release the song from inside my soul. Most of all, you made me feel valued.
I remember the awkward feeling I had walking into your music room every morning and seeing you surrounded by a gaggle of students. All of them eagerly asking you questions about last night’s music theory assignment or trying to get your opinion on a selected piece of music they chose for their district chorus audition. You seemed like a celebrity and the class was your fanbase. Sometimes I had questions of my own to ask but was too shy to do so. It wouldn’t be until after class had ended that I’d pull you side and tell you about my interest in majoring in music at the same state college as you.
I hadn’t seen you since the night of my graduation in 1987. If I’m being honest, I also hadn’t given you much thought at all, that is until almost two decades later when someone told me about the adult choir you were directing once a week in a chapel on the far side of town. This was shortly after you’d retired from teaching, and long after I’d given up on my own dream of becoming a professional musician.
Call it nostalgia but I had an urge, a tickle in my stomach of wanting to be part of something special. By then, I’d already had a family of my own and was long established in a busy career in information technology. Something like the prospect of singing in a choir with you seemed too good to be true, but regardless of any scheduling concerns, I needed to make time, if only for myself.
I still remember the familiar feeling of awkwardness when I walked into church that night for that first rehearsal. As usual, you were already in conversation with a few people and didn’t see me approaching. I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. Part of me wanted to turn and run, not because I wasn’t sure of what to say, but because I’d already started second guessing myself again. It had been years since I’d sung in a choir. Would I even know what to do?
I also wondered if you’d even remember me. I was one of thousands of students you had taught over your thirty-three-year teaching career. It had been decades and the skinny, introverted, long-haired student who once sat before you in the corner of the room was now a full-blown middle-aged man. Less hair on his head and, sadly, a bit thicker in the middle. Somehow, I was able to muster up the courage and nervously tapped my hand on your shoulder.
“Hello, M” I said, meekly. “Do you remember me?”
I will never forget the look of joy on your face when you turned around and saw me standing there. It was as if the Prodigal Son, who had been through the confusion of life and adult responsibility, had suddenly found his way back home. Here I was, once again the fragile student now stuck in an adult body, and there you were, still carrying the age and wisdom of years just like me, but with the same wit and energy I loved while sitting in your music theory classes.
“Oh my gosh!” you exclaimed as you shook my hand, firmly. “It’s been a long time.”
You told me to call you “Ed” that night because your name was Ed Milisits and we were now both adults. I did but truthfully didn’t want to. That bond of teacher-student was still very strong. For me, and I think for most everyone who ever had the pleasure of being one of your students, you were known as a single letter of the alphabet:
I spent the next ten years spending Tuesday nights in the choir under your direction. One year, I mustered up the courage to suggest a piece of music to do that we performed my senior year of high school. You were excited about the possibility but let me know that it was a bit of a long-shot because approval was needed by the music committee. It took a few more years but one morning, ironically thirty years after last performing the piece in high school, I received an email from you:
“Thought you’d be interested to know that ‘Os Justi’ is on the Winter program list! We WIN!”
When the pandemic hit in 2020 and the world shut down, the choir went on hiatus. It was also a time when I was going through a lot of personal issues and you were facing your own challenges as well. Ones that made mine look small in comparison. Although I did email quite a few times to see how you were, I always respected your need for privacy.
It’s hard to believe that today makes a full a year that you’ve been gone. Sometimes I’ll see a post pop up in my Facebook memories and read your comments about it. That will, inevitably, get me to thinking about you and our conversations in the high school choir room or the adult choir rehearsal hall. It puts a smile on my face but I wish there was a chance to have one more conversation with you. Until then, I suppose this one-sided letter will have to do. Someday, God-willing, I’ll have the honor of sitting in your choir again.
M, just know that you are missed dearly, not just by me but by the generations of people who had the pleasure of sitting in one of your classrooms or choirs. You taught us to believe in ourselves, to laugh and, most importantly, to raise our voices in song.
It’s sometimes hard to believe that we’re at the end of another year, let alone that we’re in the third decade of the 21st century. I still remember when I got my very first laminated school identification card back in September of 1981. On the back of it was a sticker that listed the year of what would be my high school graduation – 1987.
I remember staring at that card for a long time thinking about 1987 and, even though it was only six years, how far away it seemed to be. For some perspective – this past year, 2022, I attended my 35th high school reunion.
A lot has happened over the course of these last twelve months. I’d like to spend these next few minutes giving you a list of my top five events of 2022.
#5 – The Loss of Favorite Teachers. Hey, I never said this list was going to only contain good things. Not only did 2022 mark the 25th anniversary of the death of my father, it was also the year I said goodbye to two of my favorite teachers. First was my favorite teacher in all of my schooling; my high school music theory and choir teacher, Edward Milisits, who died on January 8th. I could easily write an entire book on how Mr. M and his classes affected my life. His influence was so popular that after his retirement from 30+ years of teaching, generations of former students (now adults) signed up to sing in his choir.
Then there’s my third grade teacher, Mrs. Tanzella, who passed away in November. Although I don’t have much recollection of her after I left the halls of Porter Elementary, I’ll never forget the day my brother and I rode on a float the Cub Scouts had made during our town’s annual Halloween parade. I had told Mrs. Tanzella how nervous and scared I was about riding and waving to people. As the route began and we made our way through town, I heard a woman’s voice calling my name. I looked and saw that it was Mrs. Tanzella, briskly walking behind the float; waving to me with a huge smile on her face. Seeing her put me at ease.
These days I can’t remember what I had for dinner last night, but 45 years later, I can still remember her doing that for me.
#4 – This one actually dates back to one year ago today, December 31st, 2021. The day I adopted Merlot, or Merle as he is known in my home. He had been part of a hoarding situation and I gave him a second chance at life. It took him nearly five days into 2022 to come out from under the bed. Today, he is my buddy.
#3 – Painting Holiday Watercolor Cards. As most of you know, I regularly watercolor. Most of them are 9×12 in size. For Christmas this year I was asked to paint a few 5×7 postcards to use as Christmas cards. I started out thinking I would only do a half dozen or so. Instead, I wound up doing 60 of them. I’m happy to say that, like Merle, all of the cards now have happy homes. Take a peek at them below:
#1 Graduating from College – It was a journey that actually began after graduating high school. It was August of 1987 when I entered college thinking I’d become a music teacher. The road would lead me to Penn State, Northampton Community College and West Chester University. All fizzled out and in 1990, I reluctantly entered the work force. When Covid struck in 2020 and we couldn’t go anywhere, I decided to gather all of my transcripts and see what, if anything, I could get. I was told that if I passed five courses I would receive an Associates Degree in General Studies. The quest began, and over the next year and a half I took Environmental Science, English II, Geology, Developmental Psychology and Nature of Mathematics, In May of 2022 I passed my last final and became an honors college graduate almost 35 years to the day after graduating high school. Framing the degree and putting it on my wall was the biggest accomplishment of all for me.
So, another year is about to pass. Along the way there have been a few ups & downs. Some days to remember, and some days to forget. But there’s a New Year ahead and new dreams to collect. So, I wish you one that’s full of health, contentment and most of all….love. Here’s to 2023.
After thirty-five years of trying, and subsquently putting it off for various reasons, today I finally graduate from college. There are so many emotions I’m feeling right now. Not just about the achievement, but my life’s journey over these last three and a half decades and how a global pandemic became the spark that would ultimately bring me to this day.
In order properly tell this abridged version of the story, I first need to go back to April of 1987, when I was a senior at Easton Area High School and met with my guidance counselor to discuss my future plans. Plans which, as far as I was concerned, only included world domination as a rock star.
By that point, I’d already been playing guitar for two years and knew that it wouldn’t be long before Atlantic Records would be knocking on my bedroom door at home with a six-figure recording contract. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen, and before graduating high school, I ultimately decided to pursue a degree in music education.
I started out at Penn State, going to classes and getting all the student loans they would give me. Back then, they pretty much wrote you blank checks, and I used the money for important things, like guitars, amps and taking my friends out to expensive dinners. Side note: It took me until 2010 to finally pay off all of my student loans.
I dropped out of Penn State halfway through the fall 1987 semester for a reason now that escapes me. Although I bet it had to do with wanting to be a rock star. A year later, I decided to give it the old college try again, this time enrolling at Northampton Community College, before transferring to West Chester University. I received all A’s at NCC and made the move south in the Fall of 1989, where I continued to rack up every loan they handed out.
In the Spring of 1990, with $1.37 left to my name, I bailed West Chester to start a job at Easton Hospital, and by bailed I mean I just left. Didn’t tell anyone and didn’t even officially drop out. I guess you know what my WCU transcript says about that. If not, keep reading.
In the mid-90’s I went back to NCC to take a few science and computer programming classes but, that too, eventually went no where. Although I passed those classes I didn’t continue, and I wouldn’t even think about college again for the next 25 years
Fast forward to the fall of 2020. The world is in the early stages of lockdown for Covid-19, a pandemic that was killing thousands of people every day. I’m sitting at my dining room table recalling all of the terrible things that had happened in my life recently – mostly, the loss of my mother in March and being let go from my job just a month later. There was a lot of uncertainty.
My daughter, herself a recent Easton High School graduate, was looking into taking a virtual course at Northampton Community College and I helped her go online and schedule. As I was browsing the college website a strange thought popped into my head. I wondered how many classes it would take for me to get a degree — any degree at all.
It took some work but I was able to gather transcripts from Penn State and West Chester, the latter one allowing me to see all the F’s I’d earned thirty years earlier. I took all of the information and forwarded it to NCC. A few days later an advisor contacted me and told me that if I took five classes: Environmental Science, Geography, English II, Developmental Psychology and Nature of Mathematics, I would be able to graduate with an Associates in Arts degree in the Spring of 2022.
“Spring of 2022?” I thought to myself. “Who the hell knows where any of us will be by then?” Then I thought about it some more and said, “You know what? Fuck it. Let’s go!”
I enrolled in the Winter of 2020 and, fortunately, was in a position where I wouldn’t need student loans. I’d take things one class at a time.
These last 18 months weren’t easy. I mean, how could they be, I’m a 50+ year old dude who hasn’t picked up a college textbook in 25 years, and also had to continue to navigate a full-time job, take care of a house and pay bills. Environmental Science and Geology were eye openers, Developmental Psychology was interesting and English II, which is right up my alley as a writer, was a piece of cake.
The last class though, Nature of Mathematics, nearly killed me. Believe it or not it was so hard that at one point I actually considered dropping out. But I’m so glad I was able to bury that give up attitude I had as a young adult because — well, today is the day I’m graduating from college.
Two legendary artists are set team up for an evening of guitar-driven blues and classic rock when guitarist G.E. Smith and British drummer Simon Kirke (Free, Bad Company) bring their “We Rock U Roll” tour to the Sellersville Theater X p.m. Saturday
Smith, a Stroudsburg native and frequent performer at the theater, is no stranger to music fans. He served as guitarist for Daryl Hall and John Oates during their formative years in the 80s — performing on albums with monster hits like “Kiss on My List” and “Private Eyes.” He was with them in Philadelphia for the Live Aid festival in 1985 where he also played with Mick Jagger and Tina Turner.
Smith would later become music director of “Saturday Night Live.” A position he held for 10 years before returning to touring as a sideman with such artists as Bob Dylan and Roger Waters.
Although they’ve occasionally worked together in the past, Smith and Kirke’s performance marks the first time the pair has taken their friendship and love of music out on the road.
I recently spoke to G.E. Smith about the upcoming “We Rock U Roll” performance in Sellersville (8 p.m. Saturday), his Stroudsburg upbringing, and much more in this exclusive new interview.
James Wood for The Morning Call: What do you like most about performing at The Sellersville Theater?
G.E. Smith: Well, one great thing is that I’ll get to stay at my brother’s house in Stroudsburg [laughs]. Sellersville is a good feeling theater. I like that town. There’s a nice hotel next door where we’ll have dinner, and a lot of people I know from the area will also come to the gig. These are people I grew up around.
For three decades, electronic pioneer Howard Jones has been a regular presence on the international touring scene. He’s been performing his arsenal of hits and fan favorites, like “No One Is To Blame,” “New Song,” “Hide & Seek,” and “Things Can Only Get Better” in various band configurations, including his high-tech electronic setup.
But perhaps there is no better way to appreciate the foundational impact of Jones’ music than when it’s stripped down to its barest of bones. Jones will do just that when he brings his acclaimed Acoustic Trio Tour to The Sellersville Theater at 8 p.m. Feb. 20.
Joining Jones on stage that evening will be two of his longtime friends, Nick Beggs and Robin Boult, for an evening of musical fellowship.
Jones will certainly have no shortage of stories to tell. Since bursting onto the contemporary music scene in 1983, he’s sold more than 8 million albums. His monstrous 1985 album alone, Dream Into Action, went platinum in the US and featured four smash hits, including the aforementioned “No One Is To Blame” and “Things Can Only Get Better.”
A few of his other credits include performing solo at the piano at the Live Aid festival in 1985 and touring as part of Ringo Starr’s All-Starr Band.
I recently spoke with Howard Jones about this and his upcoming performance in Sellersville.
James Wood for The Morning Call: What can fans expect from your upcoming performance in Sellersville?
Howard Jones: We had been halfway through an original run of the trio tour when COVID struck. Everything was being canceled and we had to get home pretty quick. These dates are fulfilling the ones we didn’t get to do. It’s the trio tour with Nick Beggs on the bass end (he plays an instrument called the Chapman Stick and double bass), Robin Boult plays guitar and I’m on piano and vocals. Nick and Rob are two of my best friends in the world. Touring with them is a total pleasure and I hope that gets reflected in the music that we present. It’ll be the three of us enjoying ourselves on stage.
Being filled with emotion, I was having difficulty deciding what to say. I mean, how can you put into words the passing of a teacher who meant so much to you? So, what follows is the Facebook message I sent to Ed Milisits on November 10th, 2021. It was shortly after a group of about 75 singers, composed of several generations of students and friends, got together for a last minute flash mob in his back yard. It was our way of telling Ed how much we loved him.
For those who may not know, Ed Milisits played a huge role during my high school years. He was larger than life and, at times, almost felt like a celebrity to me. Blessed with perfect pitch and a love of choral music, Ed taught this fledgling rock guitarist the ins and outs of music theory and life lessons. Even though I’d find myself struggling, Ed was always there with encouragement or to answer any question. Often times we’d have deep conversations about the rules of part writing, and how that stuff didn’t jive with the music I wanted to play. But Ed said something that still sticks with me: “I know part-writing doesn’t line up with rock music, but you’ve got to first learn the rules before you learn how you can break them.”
I was fortunate to have connected with Ed again many years after high school was over. This was after he’d retired as a teacher and began conducting an adult choir which, to no one’s surprise, was comprised mostly of past students. My best memory of those days was requesting a piece for us to perform called “Os Justi.” It was one we’d done in choir my senior year and one that really resonated with me.
When I first made the suggestion to Ed, he said he’d put it up for consideration. Then, in the Spring of 2017, 30 years after last performing it, I received this message from Ed:
“Hey Jim…thought you’d be interested to know that Os Justi is ON THE WINTER PROGRAM LIST! We WIN…hahahahahahaha!”
I don’t normally share private email messages but this one seems fitting. It’s our last conversation, and Ed ended it with a heart/love emoji.
Godspeed, Ed. The best teacher / maestro I ever had. Save a spot for me in the bass section of the heavenly choir.
Hi Ed –
When they asked if I’d be interested in being part of a flash mob for you, I just couldn’t say no. You mean a lot to so many people, myself included. You may not know this but you played a big and important role during my formative years of high school. It took me a long time to “find myself,” but the choir and music theory classes meant everything to me.
Your teaching style and encouragement [“Talk to Me”] helped me to not only learn theory but also how to become a better person. Even the old lady smoke filled bingo nights we used to work for the concert choir were fun — ok, maybe that’s pushing it… lol.
You were the main reason I wanted to become a music teacher. I even remember you letting me shadow you one day while I was a student at West Chester. Sadly, I never wound up finishing college at all because I dropped out. Then last year, I finally decided to go back. I started taking classes at NCC and now have only one more class to take to obtain a degree in General Studies. It won’t do anything to help me get a better job but at least I can finally say I finished.
I’ve attached a photo from our choir trip to Ottawa back in 1987, one of the best times of my young life. I keep it in a large scrapbook along with programs and photos of my musical achievements and bands throughout the years. It’s my musical biography. Something very important to me all these years later, and it wouldn’t mean anything without you there.
I hope you enjoyed our little mini concert and wanted you to know that I think about you often and how much I love you.
This is my tenth entry in this series of birthday posts. Something I started shortly after I began my writing journey in the fall of 2011.
To be honest, and especially with everything that’s happened over the course of the last eighteen months, I didn’t feel like posting anything at all, but instead of rehashing all the gloom and doom about viruses, failed leadership and elections, I’ll try to remain upbeat. After all, it IS the greatest day of the year:
Birthdays are the one day where we, collectively, celebrate the individual, and by that I mean we don’t use the day as a reason to inundate social media with over the hill jokes, pay for lavish lunches, or give someone a number of spankings equivalent to their new age, plus an extra one to grow on. Although I do remember that was the best part about attending birthday parties as a kid in the 1970s, so long as you weren’t the one on the receiving end.
No, the real reason people blow out candles, consume large quantities of cake, receive greeting cards (hopefully, with a few greenbacks in them) and open whimsical presents is to commemorate the day you arrived on Earth.
You’re alive, and that’s reason enough to celebrate.
For me, it seems like it was only yesterday that I was a youthful teenager; driving me and my buddies around in a beat-up, 1972 Toyota Corona (honest, there really was a car named “Corona”). Going to the mall on Friday nights after school, pouring my hard-earned, summer lawn mowing earnings into video game cabinets and drinking gallons of Orange Julius and wishing I could somehow muster up the courage to go over and talk to the cute girl who was standing with her friends outside of the Listening Booth record store. Ah, youth.
Wasn’t I the one who was able to go to rock concerts and stay up til the wee hours of the morning? Sitting in some dingy diner; smoking cigarettes and drinking gallons of coffee while talking to friends about what would happen when we took on the world and made all of our dreams came true? Now, I’m lucky if I can stay up til 10 p.m. most nights.
There’s an odd sense of immortality you have when you’re young that makes you believe time will always stand still, and that you’ll never be as old as your parents. But then, one day, you take a nap and wake up in their role. To give you some perspective, my father died at the age of 51. As of today, I’ve outlived him.
I promised I would keep things upbeat for this post so I won’t continue to rehash the past. Instead, I’ll talk about the future. In addition to continuing to do interviews for The Morning Call newspaper and Guitar World magazine, I’m also heavily in the writing process of several books. Something that has been put off for quite a while but something I am extremely excited about. I am thinking more of a collection of short stories — perhaps two novellas in one. More on that in the months ahead.
I’ve also been dabbling a lot in watercolor painting. Not only has it been a great stress reliever but it’s something you can do that doesn’t cost a lot of money and where you can literally see your progress every day:
I called this one “The Road Beyond 50.” If you visualize yourself in it, the painting is a metaphor for life. You can’t see where you’ve been (the past) or the scars that you carry. All you can see is where you’re standing now and the road to what lies ahead of you. As in life, there is beauty all around us and a brave new world just waiting to be explored. I plan on doing a lot of exploring in the days, weeks and months ahead.
I hope my next trip around the sun, and walk down this path, brings all of us a sense of hope, peace and most of all, love.
Universally hailed as one of the most popular rock acts in the world, Foreigner‘s timeless anthems include ten multi-platinum albums and 16 US Billboard Top 30. With a formidable musical arsenal that includes monster hits like “I Want To Know What Love Is,” “Cold As Ice,” “Waiting For A Girl Like You,” “Hot Blooded,” “Juke Box Hero,” the band continues to propel sold-out tours and album sales,
Foreigner is bringing these hits back to concert stages across the world with the recent announcement of a new, 121-date concert tour across sixteen countries.
The US leg of FOREIGNER’s world tour will take the band to 71 cities in 42 states. Dates are listed below. For tickets and more information, visit www.foreigneronline.com.
FOREIGNER is: Mick Jones (guitar), Kelly Hansen (lead vocals), Jeff Pilson (bass, vocals), Michael Bluestein (keyboards, vocals), Bruce Watson (guitar, vocals), Chris Frazier (drums) and Luis Carlos Maldonado (guitar, vocals).
Thursday, June 24 Ottumwa, IA – Bridge View Center
Friday, June 25 Sioux Falls, SD – Washington Pavilion
Saturday, June 26 Bismarck, ND – Bismarck Civic Center
Tuesday, June 29 Casper, WY – Casper Events Center
Wednesday, June 30 Billings, MT – MetraPark Arena
Friday, July 2 Welch, MN – Treasure Island Great Lawn
Sunday, July 4 Fort Bragg, NC – Pope Army Airfield
Tuesday, July 27 Fresno, CA – Saroyan Theatre
Wednesday, July 28 Prescott Valley, AZ – Findlay Toyota Center
Friday, July 30 West Valley, UT – Maverick Center
Saturday, July 31 Grand Junction, CO – Los Colonias Park Amphitheater
Sunday, August 1 Rio Rancho, NM – Rio Rancho Events Center
Wednesday, August 4 Lubbock, TX – Buddy Holly Hall
Thursday, August 5 Enid, OK – Stride Bank Center
Saturday, August 7 Park City, KS – Hartman Arena
Sunday, August 8 North Little Rock, AR – Simmons Bank Arena
Tuesday, August 10 West Allis, WI – Wisconsin State Fair
Wednesday, August 11 Cedar Rapids, IA – McGrath Amphitheatre
Friday, August 13 Arcadia, WI – Ashley For The Arts
Saturday, August 14 Interlochen, MI – Kresge Auditorium
Sunday, August 15 Peoria, IL – Civic Center Arena
Tuesday, August 17 Kettering, OH – Fraze Pavilion
Wednesday, August 18 Nashville, TN – Ryman Auditorium
Friday, August 20 Doswell, VA – AfterHours at Meadow Event Park
Saturday, August 21 Selbyville, DE – The Freeman Stage at Bayside
Monday, August 23 Syracuse, NY – New York State Fair
Wednesday, August 25 Bridgeport, CT – Hartford Healthcare Amphitheatre
Thursday, August 26 Webster, MA – Indian Ranch
Friday, August 27 Cohasset, MA – South Shore Music Circus
Saturday, August 28 Hyannis, MA – Cape Cod Melody Tent
Thursday, September 9 Grand Forks, ND – Alerus Center
Friday, September 10 Rapid City, SD – Rushmore Plaza Civic Center
Saturday, September 11 Butte, MT – Civic Center
Tuesday, September 14 Everett, WA – Angel of the Winds Arena
Wednesday, September 15 Nampa, ID – Ford Idaho Event Center
Thursday, September 16 Airway Heights, WA – Northern Quest Resort & Casino
Saturday, September 18 Fort Hall, ID – Fort Hall Casino
Tuesday, September 21 Bend, OR – Les Schwab Amphitheater
Wednesday, September 22 Kennewick, WA – Toyota Center
Sunday, September 26 Reno, NV – Grand Theatre at Grand Sierra Resort
Wednesday, September 29 Saratoga, CA – Mountain Winery (orchestral)
Friday, October 1 Los Angeles, CA – Greek Theatre (orchestral)
Saturday, October 2 Santa Barbara, CA – Santa Barbara Bowl (orchestral)
Monday, October 11 Detroit, MI – Fox Theatre (orchestral)
Tuesday, October 12 Youngstown, OH – Foundation Amphitheater (orchestral)
Wednesday, October 13 Grand Rapids, MI – Van Andel Arena (orchestral)
Friday, October 15 Johnson City, TN – Freedom Hall Civic Center
Sunday, October 17 Knoxville, TN – Civic Auditorium
Monday, October 18 Columbus, OH – Palace Theatre
Tuesday, October 19 Charleston, WV – Municipal Auditorium
Thursday, October 21 Reading, PA – Santander Performing Arts Center
Friday, October 22 Wilkes Barre, PA – F.M. Kirby Center
Saturday, October 23 Baltimore, MD – MECU Pavilion
Monday, October 25 Providence, RI – Performing Arts Center
Wednesday, October 27 Port Chester, NY – Capitol Theatre
Thursday, October 28 Hampton Beach, NH – Hampton Beach Casino Ballroom
Friday, October 29 New Brunswick, NJ – State Theatre
Saturday, October 30 Atlantic City, NJ – Hard Rock Live at Etess Arena
Thursday, November 4 Corbin, KY – Corbin Arena
Friday, November 5 Springfield, IL – UIS Sangamon Auditorium
Saturday, November 6 Southaven, MS – Landers Center
Monday, November 8 Savannah, GA – John Mercer Theatre
Tuesday, November 9 Augusta, GA – Bell Auditorium
Wednesday, November 10 Greenville, SC – Bon Secours Wellness Arena
Friday, November 12 Macon, GA – Macon City Auditorium
Saturday, November 13 Tupelo, MS – Bancorp South Arena
Sunday, November 14 Brandon, MS – Brandon Amphitheater
Tuesday, November 16 Huntsville, AL – Mark C. Smith Concert Hall
Wednesday, November 17 Birmingham, AL – BJCC Concert Hall
Friday, November 19 Biloxi, MS – IP Casino Resort & Spa
Saturday, November 20 Pensacola, FL – Saenger Theater
Multi-platinum selling supergroup Asia are celebrating their 40th anniversary with new 5-CD boxset, The Reunion Albums: 2007-2012. The package includes the three albums (Phoenix, Omega and XXX) that reunited original members John Wetton, Steve Howe, Carl Palmer and Geoff Downes. The reunion albums are presented together in a collector’s boxset designed by Roger Dean, who produced all of the artwork on the original albums.
A dual-CD live recording, Fantasia: Live in Tokyo rounds out the package and features many of the tracks from the band’s first two albums, Asia (1982) and Alpha (1983) as well as heritage tracks from each band member’s musical history. The live concert also includes an acoustic version of Ride Easy, a B-side from the band’s debut single, Heat of the Moment, performed for the first time.
We spoke with guitarist Steve Howe about the new boxset, 50 years of Yes’s landmark single Roundabout, and his undying love for Martin guitars…
How did The Reunion Albums: 2007-2012 boxset come about?
“Because there hasn’t been much touring, there were discussions with management about the idea of taking a look at those three albums which had recently returned to our ownership.
“When I listened back to Phoenix, Omega and XXX, it was a delight to put them in perspective. It was a very productive period for the band. Phoenix has a bit more intricacies and proggy bits and the other albums are a development from that starting point. So we decided to put together a boxset with Roger Dean and everyone else who’s worked with us. It’s marvelous.”
The set includes the 2CD live concert Fantasia, Live in Tokyo from 2007. Did the idea to do a full-on reunion album build out of that tour?
“When we met in 2006, Geoff said he and John were starting to write together and that there was enthusiasm from Japan, America and England. At the time, Yes had taken a hiatus and I thought, ‘Great! I hadn’t played this music in years.’ My only pre-condition was that we would play the songs more meticulously than we did in the old days.