say it ain't so
i have been an avid concert goer for about ten years now. it all started on a snowy day in march when my friends caravanned to kalamazoo in our broke down cars in the middle of an ice storm to see alanis morissette. it only took a couple 'you oughta knows' and some energetic dancing and hair flipping and we were officially hooked on the live music experience. in the years following and thanks to the welcome addition of grand rapids' new sports arena we managed to see most of the big names of the late nineties. bush, no doubt, smashing pumpkins, live, oasis, the verve pipe....etc. for some reason, however, despite the fact that their self-titled 'blue album' was mandatory listening for almost all of my peers at the time, we never got around to attending a weezer concert.
sarah koeze (my concert partner in crime) and i have been lamenting recently that we're starting to feel a little 'old' at concerts these days. we've become content to stand near the back of the venue and just observe the experience as it unfolds in front of us. we breathe a sigh of relief when an event starts early to adhere to city curfew regulations. we complain that our backs hurt from standing for more than 20 minutes in the same spot and we admonish enthusiastic teens who want to get up and dance instead of remaining still in their assigned seats. we start yawning before the opening band has even completed their set and we struggle to keep our eyes open on the late night road trips home. we complain about parking costs as we drive around in a green ford taurus and wonder when it was that we stopped being cool and started becoming a bit too much like soccer moms.
on the way to the concert last night i was speculating about weezer's setlist. after the 'blue album' i lost touch with most of the band's studio work and am now familiar with only their few radio singles. like the kind of fan i usually despise, i secretly hoped that they'd just play a set of greatest hits so i wouldn't feel out of the loop.
ask and ye shall receive.
the minute the giant lighted trademark 'W' fell from the ceiling and they started up with the beginning chords of 'in the garage' sarah and i felt ten years younger. we re-lived our youth as we sung along with rivers' quirky and heartfelt lyrics. we felt as if we had been suddenly and momentarily transported back to a time when we waited in line for hours to get a spot near the front of the stage. a time when we would camp out for days in the freezing cold to get tickets. a time when we would buy a t-shirt at every show we went to. a time when we watched endless crowd surfers get passed up to the security guards and too many people pass out from lack of water and oxygen in the mosh pit. a time when we would live for that moment when the band turned on the house lights and let the crowd sing out the most famous lyric. a time when we tried to make friends with anyone who looked official enough to get us backstage. a time when we not only expected but looked forward to losing our voices from screaming so loud for the encore. a time when we wouldn't complain about returning home with the scent of smoke in our hair and beer spilled on our clothes by some overly intoxicated frat boys.
a time when we were cool.
oh yeah.
all right.
feels good.
inside.
sarah koeze (my concert partner in crime) and i have been lamenting recently that we're starting to feel a little 'old' at concerts these days. we've become content to stand near the back of the venue and just observe the experience as it unfolds in front of us. we breathe a sigh of relief when an event starts early to adhere to city curfew regulations. we complain that our backs hurt from standing for more than 20 minutes in the same spot and we admonish enthusiastic teens who want to get up and dance instead of remaining still in their assigned seats. we start yawning before the opening band has even completed their set and we struggle to keep our eyes open on the late night road trips home. we complain about parking costs as we drive around in a green ford taurus and wonder when it was that we stopped being cool and started becoming a bit too much like soccer moms.
on the way to the concert last night i was speculating about weezer's setlist. after the 'blue album' i lost touch with most of the band's studio work and am now familiar with only their few radio singles. like the kind of fan i usually despise, i secretly hoped that they'd just play a set of greatest hits so i wouldn't feel out of the loop.
ask and ye shall receive.
the minute the giant lighted trademark 'W' fell from the ceiling and they started up with the beginning chords of 'in the garage' sarah and i felt ten years younger. we re-lived our youth as we sung along with rivers' quirky and heartfelt lyrics. we felt as if we had been suddenly and momentarily transported back to a time when we waited in line for hours to get a spot near the front of the stage. a time when we would camp out for days in the freezing cold to get tickets. a time when we would buy a t-shirt at every show we went to. a time when we watched endless crowd surfers get passed up to the security guards and too many people pass out from lack of water and oxygen in the mosh pit. a time when we would live for that moment when the band turned on the house lights and let the crowd sing out the most famous lyric. a time when we tried to make friends with anyone who looked official enough to get us backstage. a time when we not only expected but looked forward to losing our voices from screaming so loud for the encore. a time when we wouldn't complain about returning home with the scent of smoke in our hair and beer spilled on our clothes by some overly intoxicated frat boys.
a time when we were cool.
oh yeah.
all right.
feels good.
inside.
posted by sara at 10:05 AM
1 Comments:
what? have we talked about this before? i was at that same concert. and, it was my first! so THAT is where our friendship really began, over a jagged little pill. -sn
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