The Beauty of Live Music
Photo by Rebecca Bloch
You enter the venue. The walls are vibrating with the hum of the audience talking. You wait anxiously for the show to start. The lights suddenly dim and a massive yelp engulfs the crowd. You hear the music, your heart thumps in your throat. The spotlight flashes on and there they are. Welcome to the show.
As we all know, COVID took away a lot from everyone in varying regards. One universal thing that everyone missed out on was live music, that thing that connects us all. No driving to the venue and putting on your cute outfit; just sitting in your sweats watching old performances on YouTube. I very clearly remember watching all of my favorite artists go on Instagram Live to do virtual shows. Every time each of them mentioned how much they missed live shows and how eager they were to get back to performing. We all were missing everything during the pandemic, so I thought it was more of a cliche than a genuine thought, but now more than ever I realize how vital live music is for the audience, crew, and artists.
I was so terrified for the first show that I attended post-quarantine. I thought about it like coming back to a sport after two years out, will I ever get to the level I was before? I did not remember concert etiquette: Is the time the doors open the time that the artist comes on? Do I wear my cute shoes or my comfortable shoes? Should I push my way up to the front of the crowd or enjoy it from a distance? What do I wear!? I was so confused and overwhelmed and, honestly, just wanted to rip the bandaid off and get it over with; I was not even very excited for the music. I wore a simple and danceable outfit and drove up to the venue. When we parked I freaked out, was I supposed to print the tickets? I was worried. Who was I kidding, this is not 2012, everything is digital, I remembered. We entered the dully-lit room full of brightly dressed millennials and I was floored. Everyone was laughing, dancing, and genuinely seemed happy to be there. The show had not even started yet and I was slapped in the face with the memory of why I love concerts so much.
That first show was amazing, and so were the others that I have seen since then, and I am so much more appreciative and present of live music after the pandemic. There is an unexplainable rush that is guaranteed when you buy a concert ticket. It is something that is very hard to explain or replicate, but it is magical and it is universal. Not once have I attended a concert and left disappointed. No matter if the live music is your brother's piano recital (that might be a stretch) or Coachella, it is a wondrous experience that brings an unworldly power to the audience. Each show brings its own set of unique people, energy, and experiences into one small venue to celebrate and soak up the glory of one artist. There is no other entity in the world that can bring together people with so many differences into one joyous occasion. with different perspectives, ages, outfits, and ideas. To love music, you do not have to resonate with a certain political party, ideology, religion, sexuality, or identity; you just have to like the music and that is more than enough!
We as an audience often take for granted how much work is put into a show. How is it possible to make a performance that a group of four-hundred to thirty-thousand people will like? Luckily for the crew, when the audience is under the hypnotic spell of music, everyone is much easier to please. Creating a captivating live show is truly an art form. From the stage to the lighting to the costming and everything in between, the crew and creative teams make joy out of thin air and pull love and emotion out of their audience. Nothing can beat live music.
Sadly, it always comes to an end. They said goodbye. Sweat drips off your face and down your neck. The lights come up and your breathing slows. Background music begins to fade in. The chatter of the audience reinvigorates and you are suddenly conscious. The crowd starts pushing you out so you go. Then you are outside and the show is over. Goodbye, you say.