I suppose it's normal for most people to think the music they grew up with was the best and everything else is bit crap in comparison.
Melanie performed in Hobart in 1976. Maybe there was a cock-up in ticket sales or something because there was hardly anyone there. It was in the Hobart city hall - a venue big enough for a thousand people but only about 40 people turned up. It must have been rubbish as a money earner for her. When she came out on stage, she looked surprised and asked where everybody was. She stood up there on the stage for a few moments, looking around the mostly empty hall, then down at the small group of people. Then she said "this isn't going to work", and walked off the stage. I thought she was about to cancel the performance, but then a roadie appeared from backstage and set up a chair and microphone on the floor in front of the stage, amongst our little group. Melanie came in, sat on the chair with her guitar on her lap, greeted us and then proceeded to do her songs. It was like an intimate little gathering at a private party. She was absolutely lovely, chatting to various people between songs and being utterly charming. She made us feel like we were all her friends. She was beautiful and I was completely smitten by her. Sadly she's no longer with us.
I had a similar experience with Country Joe, on his own, in the Victoria Venue in London in '79.
There were less than thirty people in the audience! He'd just finished a 'Woodstock 10th Anniversary Tour', in Europe. Playing all the old stuff to people who, mainly, couldn't understand what he said. On top of that, his son, Devin, had just been admitted to hospital. The watch word of the tour, he said, was "What can they do to us tomorrow?"
I felt, cancel the gig, refund the tickets. No-one needs that kind of night.
But, no, ever the trouper, he went for it.
"Please, don't ask me to play any old songs? I've got new ones. You're gonna love them!"
As few as the audience were, you could almost hear the groan. He started a new song, got one verse in and broke a string.
"What can they do to us tomorrow?"
He chatted while he restrung his guitar and started in, again.
Starting the second verse, another string broke!
"What can they do to us tomorrow?"
As he restrung, again, the entire atmosphere changed.
Everyone had heard the first verse twice, the chorus once and wanted to know what happened.
One of the best concerts I've ever attended, and I include seeing The Stones, in the 100 Club, in '82.
He's, also, no longer with us but, each New Year, I play this and remember him.