It wasn't going anywhere until Cat Stevens showed up and sounded like he had never left. The sincerity he spoke of his mother, and then his father, was quite moving in the supposed hotbed of sex drugs and youknowwhat. Then there was too much Springsteen, but a deserving nod to his spirited E Street Band. Finally, we got to a beat-up and perfect tribute to Nirvana, with its rainshadowy songs sung by a crew of women musicians from Joan Jett (right on the money) to a stage flopping Kim Gordon in a great dress & shiny boots, oz-haired Annie Clark, and closing with pink suited New Zealander, Lorde.
That made me look toward Monday.