This is the segment of the interview where the admission is made, though you may want to read the rest of the interview for Butch's nightmare production session tales:
Sidenote: Weez was also 8 years old in 1992 but mostly likely a lesser fan of Peter Garrett.
BUTCH: Not only am I gonna ask what was your first concert ever, but also give me your exact memory of the whole day leading up to it. Anything you can remember... I want details all the way to bedtime.
PATRICK: I was 8 years old in about 1992 and Chicago had the world's best radio station. It was called WXRT and they played stuff I still haven't heard anywhere else to this day. They'd put together bitchin free shows at Grant Park every year but before I ever went to any of those I went to see a show they sponsored headlined by Midnight Oil. They were my favorite band ever on Earth at the time and my Dad had won 3 pairs of tickets to see them (!) One pair was up front, one pair was a bit further back, and one pair was on the lawn. Of course Pops made sure the closest seats were for the two of us. It was at the World Music Theater in Tinley Park (now I don't remember what it's named these days) and it couldn't have felt like a bigger deal. The set started with Hothouse Flowers who were totally awesome kind of Irish soul...they reminded me of a cross between Squeeze and Van Morrison. Next up, I had to pee. Dad and I were standing in line forever because we had never heard of the second act and we didn't care much. While we were at the porta-potties though we were like, "This is totally awesome! We're missing some good stuff!" We ran back to hear the last few bars of Paul Westerberg's set. We were disappointed in ourselves for putting piss over what I would later find out was "Alex Chilton." After that was Ziggy Marley and the Melody Makers, who were totally great but I feel about reggae the same way I feel about metal: I really only need like 5 records for my whole life. Ziggy hasn't made one of them. His dad made nearly all of them. Finally Midnight Oil came onstage. They were the perfect balance of punk rock energy, left-wing politics, tight performance and musicianship, great sound, intense stage presence, and sing-along choruses. Peter Garrett's intimidating frame and serious facial features scared the crap out 8 year old me, especially when he threw his harmonica into the sky into apparent oblivion after finishing his solo at the beginning of "Truganini." I left the show super stoked. I actually wrote Peter Garrett a letter once at the beginning of Fall Out Boy's success cause he entered Australian parliament. He wrote me back and said he'd check us out. Was pretty cool.