The Black Crowes announced their breakup last week and I felt a small pang of nostalgia. In the early 1990’s, I enjoyed their music but I was never a superfan. At the time (pre-Better than Ezra days), I favoured groups such as Soul Asylum, Toad the Wet Sprocket and Gin Blossoms. Years later, I had the opportunity to see The Black Crowes live in concert, a private show that was part of a conference package. The day before the show, an announcement was made that a handful of tickets would be available for purchase the following morning for people who didn’t have a conference pass. Since my sister had joined me on the trip, we got up very early to get in line to buy a ticket for her. After the day’s events ended for me, we lined up for hours that evening to snag a spot in the front row. When the Crowes finally took the stage, we were beside ourselves with excitement, but the band didn’t share our enthusiasm. I couldn’t tell if Chris Robinson, the lead singer, was sick or strung out because his eyes were red-rimmed and he didn’t connect with the audience. It was one of the few times that I saw a musical act live and liked them less afterwards. But the concert was a unique bonding experience with my sister that we’ll never forget. I will always associate The Black Crowes with that awesome evening in Las Vegas. The stagehand gave me the set list at the end of the concert, which I wouldn’t have thought to ask for.