Last week Shane and I attended the Chiodos/Silverstein/Escape the Fate/Alesana/Skylit Drive (phew!) concert at Roseland in N.Y. Between ETF and Silverstein we went back to the bar to buy Shane a soda. As the bartender handed Shane his drink, he remarked, “Do you know how lucky you are that your mom takes you to concerts?” We just smiled and nodded. Little did the bartender know, he had gotten it backwards.
Lots of grownups attend the concerts I do. But not for the music. They are there as combination taxis/chaperones/banks. They linger on the periphery drinking grownup drinks, talking on the phone, working on their laptops, reading their books. There are even the unfortunate ones who have forgotten their books and have nothing to look at but their watches.
But as I stand watching the band of the moment in my 9 inches of space amongst the throng and look around me, I am usually the only one in the audience over thirty. And I can’t help feeling akin to that early 20th century actress, Lillie Langtry, who flouted convention by smoking cigars in public.
The other fans are always there with their friends, and I feel a little lonely. Don’t get me wrong; Shane is wonderful company. But in a few years, he’ll start going to shows with his own friends. And who will go with me? If I ask any of my friends to go to a Chiodos concert with me, I would get one or more of the following reactions:
1. tolerant chuckle
2. raised eyebrows
3. blank stare
Then I think of all the friends I have on Buzznet, and wish that at least on concert nights I could be transported to an alternate reality where I could stand in the audience at a The Academy Is... or Paramore, or AFI concert with Vanessa & Sue; Savannah & Sara; Jessy & Jenna; Madison & John; Pam & Lucy; Viki & Barb; Becky & Millieann; Lory & Kay; Elisha & Rihanna. Wouldn’t that be awesome? And with you I wouldn’t worry about what you think. You already know me.
The fact is, I can’t help liking the music I like. And I can’t help wanting to see it performed live. It would be as hard for me to stop doing what I do as it is for a shoe lover to stop buying shoes. Or for someone who loves working out (these people do exist) to skip going to the gym for one day. Or for Gabe Saporta to miss an episode of “Gossip Girl.”
I could try. I could try to confine myself to bake sales at the middle school, volunteering at the library and perfecting my chicken cutlet recipe. But my spirit would feel a little squelched.
Do you have any thoughts on this? Should I keep on living life unsquelched? Or what?
Craig Owens of Chiodos
note: sorry for the crappiness of the photos. i've discovered you can't really get good concert photos unless you're right in front of a well-lit stage.
update: oh, man, i knew i was gonna leave someone out! kerri, can we go together, too?
