When albums are available for purchase and streaming nearly everywhere, why go to a concert?
By Brianna Kline
Josh Groban at Red Rocks Amphitheatre- photo courtesy of Brianna Kline
With the comeback of live music after much time away, music became a lifeline for a number of people, myself included. And perhaps it’s due to age and the restlessness of being twenty, but I cannot seem to get enough of concerts. To some, potentially more logical folk, there’s the question of what’s the appeal of live music? Why spend hundreds of dollars to spend 90 minutes in a sometimes cramped and other times vast venue just to listen to music that you could just listen to online on repeat in the comfort of your own home?
I can only speak from my own experience, and regardless of being barricade, mosh, or nosebleeds, the same feeling arises. I feel gutted in the absolute best way. It’s almost an indescribable experience. Regardless of the artist and if I am particularly emotionally attached to them, if I simply enjoy their music, or if I barely know of the artist at all, and am just along for the ride. The goosebumps poke through the surface of my skin regardless, a chill runs down my spine, and vibrations fill what can only be my soul.
Essentially, live music and concerts give the feeling of wholeness. Of being complete. This sounds a tad dramatic, but it's true. As humans we go through life waiting for the next exciting thing to happen, it's like in The Incredibles movie when that one little kid on the tri-cycle tells Mr. Incredible he’s just waiting for something amazing to happen. That feeling of emptiness that sometimes sneaks its way into a dark bedroom at 3 am, leaving you staring at the ceiling wondering what you’re doing with your life. Music, live music, fend that hollowness away.
I remember there was a quote from Elijah Hewson, the lead singer of Inhaler, in an interview with NME in 2021 that particularly struck me. He said something along the lines of how you start a band so that you don’t have to grow up. And I think the same could be said about music fans. You listen to music and blast it as loud as possible, with an irrepressible ache, the yearning to stay young. To preserve that youthful flame blazing within.
When it comes to live music, the appeal is simply the experience. Planning your outfit meticulously months before, getting dressed up and driving to the venue, waiting in the many lines, and then proceeding to feel that thump in your lungs the moment the show begins. It's pure ecstasy.
Concerts are a safe space. A place where as Harry Styles says in his opening speech at his shows, a place where you can, “be whoever you want to be,” for the night. Sure, in theory, you can be whoever you want in your normal day-to-day life of mundane motions, but you tend to see the same people on a daily basis which can prevent authenticity just due to an innate pressure to please. At a concert, you will most likely never see anyone, apart from anyone who you came with, ever again. It's a place to scream, a place to cry, a place to dance with no inhibitions.
Also, on a more concrete note. Concerts are simply cool to be able to say you went to. I remember talking to my dad one night at 1 am as we were driving to our hotel after going to a show, and he told me all about how when he was my age he went to concerts so often that now it's hard to keep track of all the ones he has been to. We tried to count them out, but we never landed on a solid number. Aside from the sheer amount that he has gone to, it was who the artists were that struck me as incredible. From Prince to Peter Gabriel, Journey, Asia, Boston, and more, he’s seen some artists who I’ll sadly never get the chance to see, curse my youth. But it had me thinking about how many soon-to-be legends I have the chance of seeing. I’ve got Taylor Swift and Harry Styles down in the books and several others, and there’s still time for a One Direction reunion, I’d say so far I’m doing pretty good, and hey, I’m still young so there’s time. Regardless, I look forward to when I’m old and grey and can look back on photos of me in red leather shorts, feather boas, and touches of glitter, and of being able to tell eccentric stories of my time spent bursting my eardrums.
So to return to the point, the appeal of live music is tenfold. It’s an opportunity to gain wild tales and perpetuate adolescence. It’s the all-encompassing oxygen tank when you feel as though you’re drowning and 100% volume through your headphones isn’t enough to fill the void, where being in the presence of the speakers and the kickdrum solves all your problems. Of course, the post-concert depression is brutal, but I personally would rather have a spell of post-concert depression, than have not gone to the show. I’ll take crying in my room while rewatching horribly shot videos anyway than lying in the dark at 3 am clueless about my life’s direction. Maybe it's just an expensive coping mechanism, but it's invigorating and in my opinion a fairly effective form of therapy.
Comments