This morning, an implosion finished the demolition of the Palace of Auburn Hills, which had served as the home for the Detroit Pistons from 1988 to 2017, where they were NBA Champions in 1989, 1990, and 2004. The 23,000-seat venue, which had a groundbreaking in June 1986, officially opened in August 1988. The Palace also hosted a wide array of concerts over three decades, starting with Sting on 13 August 1988, and ending with Detroit's own Bob Seger on 23 September 2017.
I can't remember everything I ever saw at the Palace of Auburn Hills, but I do know that I went there for entertainment for half my life -- my first concert there was in 1992, and my last concert there was in 2017 -- and while it wasn't exactly an acoustical marvel, I had some great times in that place. Here are some of the highlights in my life at the Palace:
The Cure wsg The Cranes [19 July 1992]
The first time I ever saw The Cure, on their tour for the Wish album (a.k.a. the end of their Imperial Phase). I hadn't been going to concerts regularly for long -- just a few months, in fact -- and I still remember this being a killer. Not the last time The Cure kicked my ass live -- see below -- but certainly the first.
Steely Dan [13 August 1993]
No big deal, just Steely Fucking Dan on the first show of their official reunion -- not counting the New York Rock & Soul Revue performances from '89 to '92 -- playing live as Steely Dan for the first time since 1974. Again, big whoop, right?
Before they settled into a brain-dead oldies romp, those first few years of live Steely Dan were musically varied and interesting, and none more so than this gig, where solo tracks from Donald Fagen and Walter Becker -- excised from later gigs -- were interspersed with Steely Dan classics. There's a great write-up on this show here, including audio, so I'll let this link speak for my experience:
http://bbchron.blogspot.com/2017/09/steely-dan-1993-08-13-auburn-hills-mi.html
Depeche Mode wsg The The [22 October 1993]
The The coming off a strong album (Dusk) and Depeche Mode in full-on electro-blues heroin-laced splendor. Either one would have been a treat, but both together made for a great night.
Boyz II Men wsg Babyface and Tevin Campbell [29 December 1994]
This is most likely the choice for "one of these things is not like the other," but (a) I'm a R&B lover since I was a wee lil' kid & (b) in the early '90s, this show was hot shit. If only I would have had a lovely lady to bring along to disappoint.
Eagles [15 February 1995]
I decided to go to the Eagles reunion concert on the day of the show with some of my friends from Boomer's (the bar/nightclub in the Holiday Inn at Mt. Pleasant, where I was DJ'ing at the time) who already had tickets. Since I didn't have a ticket, but I worked at a record store that had a physical Ticketmaster outlet, I decided to check to see what I could get on such short notice. Well, after a few clicks at the terminal, I saw that for the princely sum of $85 (the most I had paid for a ticket up to that point), I could sit in the front row, in front of Joe Walsh and Don Felder. Okay, sure, why not?
It was early days in the reunion of Eagles, so the vibes between the members of the band were solid, and of course they put on a good show. (Here's the setlist.) It was also the point where Joe Walsh became the de facto front man of the band, as his solo stuff received the biggest swell of love from the fans. After the show, needless to say, my friends from Boomer's were jealous that I got to have such a great seat, back in the days when you could actually get great seats at the last minute.
R.E.M. wsg Luscious Jackson [6 June 1995]
R.E.M. on the Monster tour, loud and more than a bit influenced by grunge. Radiohead opened up some earlier dates, which would have been great to see, although LJ did...well, fine.
David Bowie wsg Nine Inch Nails [3 October 1995]
So after missing out on seeing Bowie with Tin Machine in Detroit at a small club in December '91, I had to wait almost four years to have my first live Bowie experience...but it was well worth the wait. Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails was such a Bowie fan that, just over a year after releasing the multi-platinum smash album The Downward Spiral, Trent not only positioned NIN as the opener rather than the headliner, but also played some material with Bowie as the artists transitioned off and onto the stage. (Here's the setlist if you'd like to see what I mean.)
Once Bowie had full command of the stage, he eschewed his more well-known songs to play new material from his recently released mid-'90s gem 1.Outside, as well as re-arranged versions of relatively deeper catalog tracks ("Andy Warhol," "The Man Who Sold The World"). The fans that remained -- as many fans were there only to see NIN, and fled for their cars after their opening set -- were treated to a muscular band flexing through some fairly risky material. Bowie never opted for such an challenging live effort again, but at least I got to see him walk the wire once.
The Cure [13 July 1996]
Although supporting the album Wild Mood Swings, The Cure decided to bring the show (which was called "An Evening With The Cure," and they weren't lying) by playing for hours. This set list is nice on paper, but simply transcendent live. With so many songs to choose from and so many iterations of The Cure to represent, they simply went for all of it. Or at least it felt that way that night.
Prince (a.k.a. "The Artist...") [27 December 1997]
Much like The Cure, Prince will play and play and play when he's in the mood, and just a couple days after Christmas, Prince decided to give the crowd at the Palace a gift of his musical genius. The set list is robust, but as they say, the map is not the territory, and this territory was funky and overwhelming and exhausting everyone but Prince himself, who most likely could have played another eight hours without missing a beat.
Detroit Pistons v. Chicago Bulls [3 January 1998 + 11 March 1998]
Late-period Jordan -- who can eat my unwashed taint forever, shitting on the Bad Boys like the asshole he was and is and always will be -- and peak Grant Hill and a girlfriend who loved Bulls basketball and was better at playing basketball than I was (not like that's saying much, of course) all add up to a pretty thrilling ride, back when the Palace would sell out on the regular for basketball games. I saw more basketball at the Palace over the years, of course, but these two games -- both Bulls wins, sadly -- stood out the most. Want proof? Here's the January game in full:
The Family Values Tour feat. Korn, Rammstein, Ice Cube, etc. [30 September 1998]
While the artists on this package tour were all solid, I was all in for seeing Rammstein on the big stage, and they did not disappoint. A few months earlier, I saw Rammstein in Chicago in a small club called the Metro, but there were unable to bring their pyro in such a small setting, especially in a city with no small history related to fire. Thankfully, that wasn't a problem at The Palace, and the flames flew higher and higher.
Of course, the other great part about their set was a moment during their signature track "Buck Dich" where Till (the lead singer) pulls a dildo out of his pants that promptly sprays the audience. As the song started and as I knew what was coming (so to speak), I watched the bro's around me recoil in gay panic once they understood what was being pantomimed on stage. Sometimes, there's nothing like a German sense of humor.
David Bowie [9 January 2004]
The Palace was the first place I saw David Bowie, and although I saw him elsewhere over the years between 1995 and 2004, The Palace was the last place I saw David Bowie, touring on his album Reality, looking fit and happy, not knowing that the heart attack that would forever end any widespread touring was just a few months away. The band was solid, Bowie was in fine voice, but it felt a bit like a well-earned victory lap, not that there's anything wrong with that. It wasn't the best Bowie show I ever saw in Michigan -- that would be the second show at the State Theater in Detroit on 22 September 1997 -- but it was a Bowie show, which means that it was better than most of the gigs I've ever seen in my life.
Rammstein [6 May 2012]
FIRE FIRE FIRE. Rammstein is the German version of Kiss with better tunes, greater showmanship, more electronics, and a wry sense of humor. If you have never seen them, watch a live show as soon as possible, and if you can, jab a lighter in your face when the FIRE kicks in to approximate the full live Rammstein experience. We sat next to a dude and his grandkid, who was experiencing his first Rammstein show, one generation passing the fiery torch to another. I've loved them for almost a quarter of a century, and I can't imagine a time when their best songs don't make me want to run up a brick wall and beat down some Nazis.
Arcade Fire [10 March 2014]
An anthem-hurling Canadian school of fish with Springsteen envy to burn and Bowie as an unabashed fan, it's hard not to like Arcade Fire, especially with their live energy and enthusiasm. I'm not sure I love them, but I've spent two hours doing much worse musically. Of all the concert date nights I've had with my wife, this is pretty close to the top.
Roger Waters [2 August 2017]
Thanks to a convergence of the scheduling gods, just before I drove to Chicago to have my first Lollapalooza experience, I was able to see Roger Waters and friends put on an epic multimedia bombardment featuring tracks from his new record along with choice Pink Floyd classics. Any night that has Jonathan Wilson singing and playing guitar on Floyd tracks while the heavenly vocals of the ladies of Lucius harmonize with the spheres is a good night indeed.
And less than two months later, the Palace of Auburn Hills was no more. No one will ever make a documentary about all the bands that passed through the doors of a slab of concrete and metal just north of Detroit -- not like they did for the Grande Ballroom in Detroit -- but at least ESPN did take a swing at what the Palace meant to sports:
One of the things about America is that history is essential except when it's more easily cast aside or revised. Thankfully, I'll still be part of that living history of performance, captured for a brief time on a stage in a place that only exists in my memory, and in various quality on YouTube. Rest in pieces, old friend.
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