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the trouble with concerts

concerts are magical things. you walk in with definite expectations, and come out with a definite experience compact into 3 hours of music. it’s not bad, but you never know what you’re going to get. even if you’ve seen the artist and know all the lyrics, something is bound to surprise you.

my first concert was in the seventh grade, when taylor swift went on the north american leg of her speak now tour. it was an odd time in my life, because i had made my first real group of friends but i still was quite alone. to this day, most of us are intact and spend even more time together. we sat in upper box seats, and it was this crazy experience. you can spend hours laughing over an artist’s interviews and memorizing the breathes and accents in songs, but to be less than a thousand feet from someone you’ve only ever seen on a screen or heard in recording is magical.

then, i attended the red tour. i was never the biggest fan during the time of the concerts, which is something i regretted. of course i was a fan, but then the logistics of parking and buddy-systems got too nerve-wracking. i’m a huge fan now, and i can only hope to see her on the 1989 world tour with haim and vance joy (two artists i was a huge fan of even before she said that they would be opening up for her).

then, last april, i saw karmin in a small venue- no more than a thousand people. it was a really safe experience, for some reason, and the seating had general admission in the front so i was really close to amy and nick. i don’t really listen to them anymore, and i think my interest was at its peak a month within the experience, but i’m excited to see what else they have in store.

and now, the holy grail.

a little over two weeks after seeing karmin, i saw bastille in a place that i generally overlooked. the entire experience was a little coincidental, because my the person i went with was the only really big fan at school, and i just mentioned it after school in a teacher’s room. to this day, i’m still incredulous that four of my favorite people in the world were less than forty feet away from me for hours. the time i spent watching their live performances and smiling over their down-to-earth interviews could not prepare me for the concert at all. i remember they came out, but woody (the drummer) came first, and he just put his arm out to wave and i thought to myself they’re here. just a few miles from where i live.and dan went into the audience during flaws and i just about died even though i never touched his grey hoodie.

so… this originally was going to mention how concerts are almost always problematic, being either you need someone to go with or it’s a school night or holy mother of god that’s expensive. and then when you get there everyone’s holding up their phones and obscuring the view rather than enjoying that brief moment. but in retrospect, it’s all worth it. the money, the time, the sweat, and the tears are all worth it.

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