In a world full of cheating, lying boyfriends, jealous, back stabbing girls, a toilet-dwelling economy and college students who are more interested in Robert Pattinson’s bedmates than life outside of our industrial looking college campus, we all need something to look forward to.
For me, it’s concerts.
To alleviate the stress of my last semester of senior year and to take my mind off of the slow and painstaking graduate school admissions process, I’m taking the hour and a half drive to Toronto on Monday to see Muse.
This band, who I was introduced to by my ex-boyfriend, became a favorite of mine only after my best friend convinced me that despite my cognitive association between them and my cheating ex, they really are wonderful. They have a soulful arena-rock sound that couples with poetic lyrics and hits you right in the jugular.
That’s how all music should be. It should make you weak in the knees and lightheaded. Seeing your favorite band live should make you want to throw up because you’re so excited you can’t calm down.
Music should move you—and sadly, that’s not the case these days.
Gone are the days of groupies and roadies. It seems to me that concerts these days are filled less with fans and more with pretentious jerks who are only there to be “seen” by the “right” people. It’s pathetic.
There’s a line in my favorite film, Almost Famous, which explains what it means to be a real fan. “[You must] love some silly little piece of music so bad that it hurts.” People don’t do this anymore, nor do they understand it.
My first concert was Hanson back in 1997. I was nine and I was so in love with this band that I cried at the show. Say what you want about over-dramatic teeny-boppers and the girl on YouTube who cried over Justin Beiber—at least they’re real fans. Their favorite artists move them to tears.
The first time I saw the Goo Goo Dolls live I bawled my eyes out during “Black Balloon.” When I saw Bob Dylan in Woodstock, NY this summer I teared up during “All Along The Watchtower.”
I love these two musical acts more than words can explain and sometimes the emotions flow—and you should let them.
Nothing makes me madder than those people who show up at concerts to just get drunk and screw around with their friends. It’s one thing to go and expose yourself to new music but it’s another to show up, get loaded and completely ignore the entire show.
When I saw Coldplay in Saratoga this summer it was a mess. As a big Coldplay fan it was beyond irritating to see “bros” in Polo shirts and board shorts playing Uno in the middle of the crown during “Fix You.” Leave the card games at home, fools.
It’s not entirely their fault though. I really do blame the Internet. It’s so easy to be a “fan” these days. All you have to do is click a button on Facebook and all of the sudden the world has proof that you’re a “fan” of Lady Gaga or in some cases “Getting drunk and dancing.”
Honestly, it’s disgusting and it’s a slap in the face to all of us who needed this music to get us through tough times and truly do live by the Almost Famous “Band-Aid” motto. I love all of my favorite bands so much that it does hurt sometimes.
Bob Dylan, Johnny Rzeznik and Janis Joplin have gotten me through tough times. From family deaths, anxious moments, car accidents and even that cheating boyfriend, music has always been there for me—and it always will be.
Next time you go to a concert, think about what the song means and what it could mean to someone else. Connecting with the music is how you become a real fan in the real world outside of Facebook. Music should be your best friend.
To quote Almost Famous again: “If you ever get lonely, you just go to the record store and visit your friends.”