Certainly some of my fondest memories are at concerts. Cool people call them shows, but I really believe the distinction is made in the venue. The first time I ever saw a band live was seeing Paramore at "The Living Room," an old Providence venue that was essentially a warehouse with a bar. I would call that a show. Since then, I saw AC/DC at Gilette Stadium, where the stage had cannons, a giant bell, and a freaking train on it.
That's no show, that's a concert.
Reel Big Fish played in the House of Blues, which has become maybe my favorite venue. If you enjoy concerts, you should go see one there -- I went to the one in Boston, but I'm sure they're all excellent. The free water alone would earn a hearty recommendation-- they charged three bucks a pop at Dropkick Murphys-- but apart from that it's the only venue that I've been to that's a spectacle in itself. It looks like it belongs in a Guitar Hero game. I've noticed that there's a pretty standard set of characters at these shows/concerts. The guy who brought a girl and is taking up three people worth of space in his aggressive defense of her. The girl who's on her own and super okay with it. The guy who's on his own and very much not okay with it. The guy who crowd surfs all night. The giant security guard at the front of the stage with a ZZ Top beard and an intense enmity for the crowd surfer. This time, I met a severely inebriated woman when she accidentally punched me in the neck. There was an old lady on the green line who seemed right horrified at the menagerie of people on the subway. I think if she had asked if I just jumped in a pool I would have just said yes.
There will come a time when I'm sure I won't appreciate this delicate combination of sweating, people, and absurdly loud music, but it is not this day. Even now, though, there are aspects of concerts like that that I don't appreciate, crowd surfing being the main one. In movies, crowd surfing is usually when someone in the band jumps off the stage and is carried on a perfect bed of hands for a few seconds. In reality, crowd surfing is crowd throwing; it starts in the back of the crowd, not the front, so after the initial lift, if the "support" doesn't have their heads on a swivel then a man falls on them. It's not a pleasant experience. Even if heads are thoroughly swiveled that just means people are more aware that a man is about to land on them. No one over 150 lbs. should be legally allowed to crowd surf. It's just a life experience that we should miss out on for the greater good.
Conversely, I find moshing, which is stereotypically the less entertaining, by far the best crowd experience. I do have to clarify: most of my moshing experience comes from Ska concerts. I would be concerned about getting into a heavy metal pit, but Ska creates happy moshpits.
If someone falls down, everyone around them makes a circle and they get helped the frick up. That's serious, and no one is so lost in the music that they'll allow someone get trampled. I experienced a similar reaction tonight when someone noticed my glasses got knocked off. This isn't a group of people beating the crap out of each other, it's a people who love the band and want to express that in a physically intense way, and happen to be in a very small square footage. Heads are kicked. Shoes are lost. And necks are punched, apparently. But it's a good time.
You can actually see me in this picture. 10 points if you can find me.
-Will
"It's not so bad being trendy; everyone who looks like me is my friend."
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