Sometimes you go to an event, for me usually a concert, and you get this weird feeling, this feeling that this is one of those things that you're going to tell your kids about. That you're going to get to say "I was there when..." This was one of those things: Aracde Fire and Karkwa, Free in Montreal.
Alright so I already love Arcade Fire, and I already love Karkwa... and this show was free. So it was a pretty easy sell. But I didn't really count on how easy a sell it would be... to everyone. I have never seen so many people at a show. They closed down Places des Arts. They re-routed the busses. They handed out free water. And it was so worth it.
The concert was great. The music was great, the sound quality was great, the video was great (I felt like I could see everything despite being behind three trees...). The vibe was great ( I feel like a dork saying 'vibe' but all alternatives sound even lamer... so the 'vibe' was great). Everyone was in such a great mood, people were singing and dancing together, talking with random strangers, being pleasant and happy... Of course the fact that it was all free didn't hurt, but I can't help but feel that having that many people being that happy in that small a space, makes everything seem just a little bit better. The air sweeter, the water taste better, everyone friendlier...
There was a moment right at the end where they released dozens of giant glowing balloons into the crowd, and there was a great gasp. An actual audible collective gasp. It was fantastic. and when I tell my kids about that show, its not the video or the lights or even the balloons that will get the spotlight- it will be the dancing, the singing, and the gasp. Hearing tens of thousands of people simultaneously gasping in delight. Perfect.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
You never grow too old to do the things you love, only too old to remember you love them OR A Love Letter to Moshing
As promised, 'I Love Concerts' part deux ;o)
So Thursday I had kind of a shitty day. Nothing huge or earth shattering, just not that wonderful either Just shitty. And I felt like I really needed to do something . ANYTHING. just something INVOLVED. Participatory. Fun. Concert.
Luckily a friend of mine had mentioned earlier that he was going to see the Planet Smashers so I asked him if I could tag along, he said sure, so I met up with him and some of his friends.
Now I should say right off that the Planet Smashers are a ska band- one of the few ska bands I actually ever listened too, but that I kinda forgot that ska is usually grouped in with punk... so I turn up and I am by far the brightest person there (in my rainbow shirt, neon green hoodie and bright turquoise toque...), but I have decided not to let anything stop me from having fun. I decide I do not care if I stick out like a sore thumb. And I don't! Apparently sometimes 'just deciding' something actually works! Score one for me!
I quickly discovered that the Real McKenzies were opening (bagpipes! punk music with bagpipes! so good) met the friends of friends (who were of the the super-excited-about-live-shows persuasion- my favourite kind of folk), got a beer, and settled in near the bar (right in the middle of the highway to the bar in fact). The constant flow of people, was nice though instead of annoying or frustrating! Each and every person who bumped into me said sorry or smiled in apology. Someone would catch your eye while you were bopping your head to the music and randomly give you a huge smile or even a high five just in support of your enjoyment of the music. It was great! I had almost forgotten how friendly people are at punk shows, how exactly the opposite of the image they portray...
But what I had forgotten even more was how much I love the pit. For Planet Smashers we all decided to head up to the front and it was less than a second from when they picked up their instruments to when everyone went crazy. Skanking, moshing, crowd surfing... By the end of their set I was soaked from head to toe (Josh commenting: "you're sweating like me!"), smelled of other people, had a throbbing nose from getting elbowed in the face, bruised arms and knees, a throat raw from singing, ears that were ringing and toes that felt like they had been crushed to a pulp. I had been shoved around, lifted off my feet, half-lost a shoe, fallen over and been picked back up again... and I could not have been happier. Good bye shitty day, hello awesomeness.
This is when I understand why people look at me funny when I try to explain why I love concerts. I mean, it doesn't really sound like much fun when its written down in black and white like that... I get it. I get that, for all intents and purposes, getting trapped in a swarm like that seems like something that should be terrifying (especially for someone like me who grew up pretty petrified of crowds) but it just isn't. It never has been. Its always seemed strangely comforting (may even have been one of the main factors in helping me get over that fear)! There is something to be said for losing yourself in a crowd- a rambunctious, enthusiastic, singing, dancing, strangely kind and polite crowd- all doing the same thing, all working as one, all there to have fun and support everyone else's fun-having.
I had forgotten how much I love mosh pits. I had forgotten how much I love being in a position of complete trust with everyone around you (weird that eh? being bashed around by strangers, but knowing that the second anything bad happens ten of those same people will making sure you're ok...). The jumping, the getting lifted up off your feet, the getting dizzy and lost, then the surprise at being suddenly face to face with a friend, or even just someone you shared a high five with after an earlier song... All of those things, but most of all, best of all, the falling down- because you barely have time to realize you're on the floor before someone is lifting you back up.
Life should be more like that, life should be like a mosh pit- where its crazy and exciting and silly and kind, but most of all where complete strangers pick you up when you need a hand. Where you feel safe- even when you get elbowed in the face, where you feel respected- even when someone crashes into you, where you feel love- even when everyone is shouting at the top of their lungs...
Life should be a mosh pit. I'm tellin' you, it really should...
So Thursday I had kind of a shitty day. Nothing huge or earth shattering, just not that wonderful either Just shitty. And I felt like I really needed to do something . ANYTHING. just something INVOLVED. Participatory. Fun. Concert.
Luckily a friend of mine had mentioned earlier that he was going to see the Planet Smashers so I asked him if I could tag along, he said sure, so I met up with him and some of his friends.
Now I should say right off that the Planet Smashers are a ska band- one of the few ska bands I actually ever listened too, but that I kinda forgot that ska is usually grouped in with punk... so I turn up and I am by far the brightest person there (in my rainbow shirt, neon green hoodie and bright turquoise toque...), but I have decided not to let anything stop me from having fun. I decide I do not care if I stick out like a sore thumb. And I don't! Apparently sometimes 'just deciding' something actually works! Score one for me!
I quickly discovered that the Real McKenzies were opening (bagpipes! punk music with bagpipes! so good) met the friends of friends (who were of the the super-excited-about-live-shows persuasion- my favourite kind of folk), got a beer, and settled in near the bar (right in the middle of the highway to the bar in fact). The constant flow of people, was nice though instead of annoying or frustrating! Each and every person who bumped into me said sorry or smiled in apology. Someone would catch your eye while you were bopping your head to the music and randomly give you a huge smile or even a high five just in support of your enjoyment of the music. It was great! I had almost forgotten how friendly people are at punk shows, how exactly the opposite of the image they portray...
But what I had forgotten even more was how much I love the pit. For Planet Smashers we all decided to head up to the front and it was less than a second from when they picked up their instruments to when everyone went crazy. Skanking, moshing, crowd surfing... By the end of their set I was soaked from head to toe (Josh commenting: "you're sweating like me!"), smelled of other people, had a throbbing nose from getting elbowed in the face, bruised arms and knees, a throat raw from singing, ears that were ringing and toes that felt like they had been crushed to a pulp. I had been shoved around, lifted off my feet, half-lost a shoe, fallen over and been picked back up again... and I could not have been happier. Good bye shitty day, hello awesomeness.
This is when I understand why people look at me funny when I try to explain why I love concerts. I mean, it doesn't really sound like much fun when its written down in black and white like that... I get it. I get that, for all intents and purposes, getting trapped in a swarm like that seems like something that should be terrifying (especially for someone like me who grew up pretty petrified of crowds) but it just isn't. It never has been. Its always seemed strangely comforting (may even have been one of the main factors in helping me get over that fear)! There is something to be said for losing yourself in a crowd- a rambunctious, enthusiastic, singing, dancing, strangely kind and polite crowd- all doing the same thing, all working as one, all there to have fun and support everyone else's fun-having.
I had forgotten how much I love mosh pits. I had forgotten how much I love being in a position of complete trust with everyone around you (weird that eh? being bashed around by strangers, but knowing that the second anything bad happens ten of those same people will making sure you're ok...). The jumping, the getting lifted up off your feet, the getting dizzy and lost, then the surprise at being suddenly face to face with a friend, or even just someone you shared a high five with after an earlier song... All of those things, but most of all, best of all, the falling down- because you barely have time to realize you're on the floor before someone is lifting you back up.
Life should be more like that, life should be like a mosh pit- where its crazy and exciting and silly and kind, but most of all where complete strangers pick you up when you need a hand. Where you feel safe- even when you get elbowed in the face, where you feel respected- even when someone crashes into you, where you feel love- even when everyone is shouting at the top of their lungs...
Life should be a mosh pit. I'm tellin' you, it really should...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
"We have reached a crossroads...
...the crossroads between 'Lame' and 'Awesome.' The sign pointing that way says 'Lame.' The sign pointing this way says 'Awesome.' I know which way I'm going...!"
So my sister has been putting a plan into action the past few months- no not a secret plan to fight inflation- but a secret plan none the less. She has been conspiring to make me like all of her favourite bands. And it worked.
Tonight I went to see 'Said the Whale' and "Rah Rah'. Two of 'Krista's bands' that she has been putting on mixed cds since January. Two bands that I never knew existed a few months ago, and now feel like I've been listening to for forever. Even better she's gotten my roomate loving these bands as well! Always nice when you don't have to drag someone along, but can just tell them who is playing and they jump at the chance :o)
We had a great time. The show was awesome (see quote at the top. They weren't kiddin- they chose the awesome path) and of course it got me into the whole "Oh I love live music... live music... concerts... I love them so!" and the thinking, wondering about how there are people out there who possibly don't share that sentiment... I mean as I've said on many occasions- I get it academically speaking. I mean I don't like green peppers, they don't like concerts. Fine. There are reasons- your feet hurt, your voice goes hoarse, you're super tired the next day... (more on that in my next post!) but man is it worth it. Its so much more than just listening to music in a room with a bunch of people you don't know- the vibe (not to sounds lame but yes, the vibe) at a good concert is such a rush. Everyone having a great time, singing along, dancing and jumping... and seeing the band grinning from ear to ear ("The only thing I don't like about tonight is that my face hurts because I can't stop smiling! you guys are amazing!" observed Ben Worcester) having a fantastic time ("this is so short! I mean it went by so fast! ... that's a good thing by the way, it means we're having fun up here!" said Tyler Bancroft) just makes it even better. Like when we saw Karkwa at hillside and the lead singer could not stop giggling at the seventeen year olds rocking out in the front row- you could tell he thought it was hilarious. Or the look on the faces of Graveyard Train when our crowd started moshing and crazy-dancing- the next day they tweeted "Best show ever- we got the Canadians crowd surfing!" To know that its not just you, or even just the rest of the audience who is feeling that (again, please excuse the cheese) magical serendipitous feeling...
In other words its the whole experience. Sharing that time, that space, that experience with a roomful of other people you don't even know, but who you have at least one thing in common with... its golden. Simply golden.
So my sister has been putting a plan into action the past few months- no not a secret plan to fight inflation- but a secret plan none the less. She has been conspiring to make me like all of her favourite bands. And it worked.
Tonight I went to see 'Said the Whale' and "Rah Rah'. Two of 'Krista's bands' that she has been putting on mixed cds since January. Two bands that I never knew existed a few months ago, and now feel like I've been listening to for forever. Even better she's gotten my roomate loving these bands as well! Always nice when you don't have to drag someone along, but can just tell them who is playing and they jump at the chance :o)
We had a great time. The show was awesome (see quote at the top. They weren't kiddin- they chose the awesome path) and of course it got me into the whole "Oh I love live music... live music... concerts... I love them so!" and the thinking, wondering about how there are people out there who possibly don't share that sentiment... I mean as I've said on many occasions- I get it academically speaking. I mean I don't like green peppers, they don't like concerts. Fine. There are reasons- your feet hurt, your voice goes hoarse, you're super tired the next day... (more on that in my next post!) but man is it worth it. Its so much more than just listening to music in a room with a bunch of people you don't know- the vibe (not to sounds lame but yes, the vibe) at a good concert is such a rush. Everyone having a great time, singing along, dancing and jumping... and seeing the band grinning from ear to ear ("The only thing I don't like about tonight is that my face hurts because I can't stop smiling! you guys are amazing!" observed Ben Worcester) having a fantastic time ("this is so short! I mean it went by so fast! ... that's a good thing by the way, it means we're having fun up here!" said Tyler Bancroft) just makes it even better. Like when we saw Karkwa at hillside and the lead singer could not stop giggling at the seventeen year olds rocking out in the front row- you could tell he thought it was hilarious. Or the look on the faces of Graveyard Train when our crowd started moshing and crazy-dancing- the next day they tweeted "Best show ever- we got the Canadians crowd surfing!" To know that its not just you, or even just the rest of the audience who is feeling that (again, please excuse the cheese) magical serendipitous feeling...
In other words its the whole experience. Sharing that time, that space, that experience with a roomful of other people you don't even know, but who you have at least one thing in common with... its golden. Simply golden.
Camilo (the magician) by Said The Whale
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