It was a room smaller than my Grandma’s basement; dark,
concrete floored, and perhaps 800 total square feet. The shoehorned stage was just hefty enough to
fit some keyboards, a few pieces of audio visual equipment, and two, maybe
three people comfortably. Just above the
stage hung a landscape reproduction of the famous Johnny Cash photo—the one
where he cavalierly flips the bird. No
other photos or decorations adorned the chamber.
There were two total entrances to this space. One door led to and from the adjoining bar. The other door was located in the rear of the
room and had a stickered sign stating, “THIS DOOR TO REMAIN LOCKED DURING
BUSINESS HOURS.” (Which kinda meant it wasn’t much of a real door at all). It was easy to grow a little claustrophobic
standing in there. And possibly even a
little disenchanted.
This was the state of things while the crowd anxiously
waited for Sexy Sax Man Tim Cappello to appear for his one-manned concert at
The Fremont in Des Moines, Iowa on July 26, 2019.
Spirits began to lift, however, when Cappello discretely and
briefly came out to survey the stage, clad in a non-descript flannel. He gave his instrumental set-up a quick
once-over, smiled at the waiting crowd, and disappeared just as quickly as he
arrived. It was at this point, the
evening was about to get a lot more interesting.
Fifteen or so minutes later, Cappello burst through that
very back door that was supposed to remain locked during business hours, and
immersed himself directly into the crowd of one hundred or so. With his brawny arms oiled up, and his
still-lavish hair slicked back into a ponytail, Cappello blew his brass and
belted out the lyrics to “Only You,” the opening track of his latest release, Blood on the Reed.
Playfully approaching multiple members of the
crowd with his saxophone during this opening number, Cappello immediately personalized
the show for each member of the audience.
You could feel that everybody understood from this moment onward, this
show would not be a boring recital of some has-been playing his famous song from
The Lost Boys. Instead, we all knew this was going to be an
unforgettable bash because the person putting it on demanded it be so.
And about that inextricable relationship between Cappello
and his cameo in The Lost Boys: The Internet has made much comical hay of that
movie appearance in recent years, propelling Cappello from reliable backing
band member to Millenial Folk Hero status, in the same vein as Sad Keanu or
Chuck Norris. Yet, what was most
impressive about Cappello’s performance was that, from the get-go, he
straightaway owned his identity, by admitting to the crowd he knew that Lost Boys was the sole reason most of them
were there. He didn’t beat around the
bush, trying to pretend to be something he wasn’t. When he decided to play a new, original song
he forewarned his spectators, humbly asking all of them to bear with him for
just a few short minutes while he floated his new creation out into the modern
ether. He would then assure everybody
that the song they came to hear was surely on its way.
Indeed, it was Cappello’s authenticity and candor which made
him all the more impressive. This wasn’t
a man bitter that no one realizes he played with Tina Turner, Peter Gabriel,
Ringo Starr, or that he was prominently featured on an episode of Miami Vice. No, this was a pure entertainer who seemed
genuinely grateful that he was lucky enough to gain just enough fame from a
vampire movie in the 1980s, with a song called “I Still Believe,” written by
The Call, to allow him the luxury to play music for the fun of it, on his own
terms, thirty years later.
When it finally came time for Cappello to play his magna
opus, he explained how “I Still Believe” almost didn’t happen. He first recounted how his own original composition
for The Lost Boys was rejected. Then, he advised that, since The Call were made up of practicing Christians, they wanted nothing to do with a movie about vampires. So, in a strange twist of destiny, Cappello
offered to cover the song for the film, gyrate his hips, and the rest is history.
Toward the end of the concert, Cappello certainly milked “I
Still Believe” for all it was worth, stretching the song to nearly fifteen or
twenty minutes. He even developed an
interactive dance based around female lead of The Lost Boys, Star, which assisted in ensuring the audience
remained engaged and motivated.
Finally, as “I Still Believe” wore down, Cappello playfully
called for all of us to request an encore.
It was a tongue-in-cheek allusion to his unlikely ability to spare an
extra song. But despite the apparent lack
of musical stock, Cappello did in fact produce a magnificent encore by covering the rock standard, “Tequila,” with an electric clarinet. “Tequila”
is the song that Pee Wee Herman famously danced to in the motorcycle bar during
his Big Adventure. And just as Pee Wee
won over the stoic and antagonistic gangsters, Tim Cappello won over the hearts
of his crowd, prompting them to raise their hands and yell “TEQUILA” during the
iconic chorus of the song. Who knew that
an electric clarinet could wail so hard?
Following the encore and the conclusion of the show,
Cappello set up at a meet-and-greet and stuck around to talk to his fans. In the short time I conversed with him, I
found him to be one of the nicest and down to earth showmen out there. He was such a positive guy, that his
confident energy was contagious. For
those who get a chance to see this 64 year old sax player perform, I strongly
encourage you take the opportunity to do so.
You are sure to have one of the greatest musical experiences of your
life.
***A special thanks to fellow contributor Tae who suggested
we attend this concert—a concert I wouldn’t have in a million years thought of
going to otherwise. ***
Below, here is the official music video to "I Still Believe" from The Lost Boys soundtrack: