Impressions on a concert
Date Thursday, March 28, 2024 - 07:18 PM PST
Topic Music


I went to a concert yesterday. Rock the Riverfest 2 in Manchester, New Hampshire. Bands featured: Spineshank, Mudvayne, Linkin Park, Disturbed, and Slipknot. This is only the second rock concert I have ever attended, and the biggest. I thought I'd share my impressions on the whole hard rock concert scene, if anyone cares!
To start with, I have found a great difference between a rock star and a musician. You can feel the difference immediately. There are some bands whose CD's I really enjoy, but when I see them live, they somehow seem smaller than their music. They frantically work the crowd, sucking fulfillment desperately, as if they would wither and die if the crowd didn't walk away bloody and torn. You can feel their ego all the way to the back of the crowd. An ego like an over-inflated balloon, just waiting to prick with a cosmic bang.

On the other hand, there are musicians. They don't exude ego, but rather confidence, and their music seems even greater when you see them in person. These are the people you don't only listen to, but you long to talk to. Not just get an autograph from, but talk to. These people don't need frantic manipulations of the crowd to get people to rock out. They don't need flashing lights or extravagant sets. Their music and commitment to it speak for themselves.

Then, of course, are the showmen. Their music is about show. And they put on the show. And it's a good show. But it's only show. They don't have to try to work the crowd, because the show works the crowd for them. These are the rockstars who have been so established that they don't even have to work at it anymore. They take it for granted.

And the crowd. So many different types of people. I was surprized at how many wanna-be freaks showed up in their Abercrombie and Fitch shorts and colored hairspray. They swung their hips to the music like they were listening and lusting over the Backstreet Boys. Probably had hardcore boyfriends and were pretending to be hardcore to impress them. Gave me a slightly nauseated feeling.

Then were the society queens, who walked around with their perfect makeup and model-worthy clothes. Even though they looked like they stepped out of vogue, they seemed so empty. I can't even imagine how someone could really love them. They are nothing but a beautiful shell.

Then come the freaks. Beautiful, beautiful freaks. Oh, the firecracker hair colors, the piercings, the creative use of dress! I would just watch and watch, taking pictures of the ones who really carried it off, as perfect in their own way as the models, but far realer. I am proud to class myself among these (the freaks, anyway, I don't know about the beautiful!)

Oh yeah, and the beer-filled frat boys, moshing their sloshing heads off, stumbling into each other, raising hands above spinning heads and yelling. Amusing, but inconsequential. They all look alike.

But the real highlight was pushing up into the crowd during Disturbed, and having a mosh pit break out in front of me. A real one, not a frat boy pretend one on the outskirts. And you better believe I didn't cower behind some protective back! I put my two cents worth in, shoving gleefully back with all my might! Why do I love violence and danger so much? Why does it make me feel so peaceful and happy inside? Not hurting anyone, just pushing, releasing frustrations, not caring the outcome. My boyfriend says I can't mosh unless I learn martial arts first. He doesn't want me to get hurt. He's right. But I think everyone needs some outlet for their agressions, and if you can deal with the danger of possible injury and take it with a grin, then a mosh pit seems to me a great place to do it.

Anyway, that's my impressions. I had a great time! And god, am I ever tired this morning!

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