Dear Concerts, I Miss You.

Like a lot of people, I’ve been missing live music during this unprecedented time of quarantine/isolation/lockdown/whatever you wanna call 2020. However, the past couple months it’s gotten rough without concerts. As someone who has attended at least one show a week for the majority of my life, who truly feels the most alive while at a show; this lack of the one true love of my life has left me feeling desolate inside.

According to Nielsen, 52% of the U.S. population attend live music events every year. This year, while no statistics on it yet, I assume will be close to 1% (see: drive-in shows that have recently starting popping up).

And then there’s that small number of us that need shows to survive. This may sound crazy to a casual concert goer, but trust me, for some of us it’s a way of life. I have completely dropped everything in order to get to a show. I have driven thousands of miles in a weekend to see a couple bands in various states. I’ve had a blown out tire in Pittsburgh, a solo trip to Orlando, a three hour wait to get out of a parking lot after a show, a text saying to leave class immediately because my friend got an extra ticket to a show. I’ve driven through the night, lived on shitty plain bagels and coffee from gas stations, waited in line for 12 hours outside a venue, and somehow had a car repair in Baltimore go from $400 to $50 if I left a $20 bill on the front seat of another person’s car (honestly still not clear what the hell happened with that, but the car worked and spending less money is something I love).

I’ve also made some absolutely incredible friends because of this. I’ve always said concert friends are the best friends; the ones that have that same need for live music, the ones that also will drop anything when a show is announced, the ones whom it’s also a way of life. These are my people.

The summer I was 23 I met these two women at this show in Cape Cod and we talked a bit that night, saw them at another show the following day, and then we all exchanged numbers. A week later, without really knowing each other, we planned a 3-day concert weekend. I picked them up from the train, and off we went on a eight hour car ride. That was the first of many with the three of us, seeing a ton of shows together in 12 states. Some of my favorite memories were on the road with them going to see shows.

Then there was that time in a GA venue, waiting for the opener to come on, where I started talking to someone. We had realized we had been to many of the same shows, but had just never interacted through the years. At the next show we were both at a couple weeks later, I met his fiancé. Fast forward three years, and I’m at their wedding, sitting with their families, and dancing to some of the music of the concerts we’ve all attended.

And then of course, the music. The artist, the band, the musician(s) that all of this is a product of. And they’re standing on the stage and you feel that rush of excitement, while also feeling so incredibly calm. The next 90 minutes, 2 hours, 4 hours, however long it may be, that’s the lifeblood. That’s your soul filling back up. That’s you singing at the top of your lungs. That’s you dancing and laughing and feeling alive.

I miss that adrenaline rush. I miss being in a venue of people who all have that one thing in common. I miss feeling like myself. I know a lot of us are feeling like this.

Lately I’ve been watching previously recorded live shows. It helps, but it’s not the same. Nothing compares to the roar of the crowd when The 1975 play “Chocolate,” or when you dance on your seat when The Strokes play “Last Nite,” or when Counting Crows somehow weaves three songs into one that last for 20 minutes, or when Elton John starts those first few notes in “Tiny Dancer,” or when Alicia Keys makes you feel every single lyric and note in “If I Ain’t Got You.” Those are the moments that I cannot wait for again.

And so, until we can all be in the same venues again, side by side, singing, and laughing, and catching up, and telling stories of previous concerts, and feeling like we’re whole again, I leave you with my favorite lyrics that perfectly encompasses all of us feeling this same way. (The answer is yes).

“Now do you believe in rock ‘n roll? Can music save your mortal soul?”