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Wednesday, 2 February 2011

The thrills of live music.

Live music.

To those of who that have been lucky enough to go to a concert, you will all understand the sense of joy that is felt just upon hearing those two, simple words.

To those of who that have not been so lucky, I will try to explain this sense of joy.

Nothing on this earth matches the feeling of euphoria experienced when you are standing in an audience of a few thousand (or, for smaller events, few hundred) screaming fans, waiting impatiently for your favourite band or artist to appear on stage.

They may walk on, jump on, hop on...
The may appear from behind a giant curtain or they may get dropped from a crane suspended 100ft above the audience.

Believe me, it's not the way in which they enter that is the important part, it's the way their entrance makes you feel. This feeling of sheer joy just completely controls your body. You jump and mosh and sing along with thousands of other people. 

Perhaps you share a lot in common with these people.
Perhaps you share nothing in common with these people.

These people are strangers to you.

But for that hour and a half, everyone in that arena is interconnected in some unexplainable way.

You are all one.

To listen to your favourite song get belted out by the lead singer, a matter of metres away from you is an indescribable experience. Listening to "Who Knew" get sung by Pink was a magical moment, the whole audience joined in, singing the lyrics to the song, as if the lyrics were the story of our life, as if the song was the soundtrack to it, as if Pink was the only one who understood their heartbreaks and misfortunes. They could relate to the song. Then again, can't everyone? I looked around and I saw my idol, Pink, standing right in front of me, I saw one of my best friends, Halle, standing right beside me. I could only grin. I witnessed a shower of presents get rained down upon this wonderful woman in the shapes of teddy bears, hats, Scotland flags, notes and even a feathery boa. 

How could I forget the whistle.

A bit of gay pride too.

Those few short minutes were among the happiest in my life.

When I went to see Paramore last year, this same feeling washed over me, but in the more energetic form of "Brick by Boring Brick". Everyone was jumping, jumping and screaming the lyrics at the band members as if they needed to be heard from every corner of this planet. Hands were flying everywhere, as was Hayley's bright pink hair. 

No joke.

The atmosphere was crazy. You hear that so many times in regards to concerts but unless you were there, at the AECC, watching Paramore perform live, you don't know the meaning of the word. It was as if we were all inhaling pure energy, through our mouths and into our lungs, a quick buzz that seemed to last all night and ensured that I went to bed with a huge smile on my face.

I know that Pink and Paramore were amazing concerts because I went home, and I could not stop thinking about it. Even now, I'll be on the bus or taking a little stroll and nostalgia will kick in, and there I am.

Transported back to Hampden.
Transported back to the AECC.

Which brings me to my point, live music is like a drug.

A narcotic, blissful, harmless craving that makes you incomparably content with life but your bank account slim.
Very slim indeed.

Concert tickets are not cheap to buy. But you are paying for memories. You are paying to hear your favourite song being performed live, you are paying to be connected in an indescribable way with complete strangers, you are paying to see your favourite artist rolling across the audience in a hamster ball and you are paying to watch your idol threatening the seated audience with a kick in the face if they don't stand up (I'm looking at you Hayley).

Let's face it. Concert tickets are not a possession. They are a piece of your life.

They are your individual tastes and memories and that is priceless.

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