LOLHSC
The doors opened at six. The line began to crawl its way inside the venue, as people paid to do so checked tickets and inspected bags for anything illicit. I’d come to this concert by myself, a silly idea by any reckoning; it just was not done. I hadn’t really listened to the band, either, but tickets were cheap and my friend said they were good so I bought one. As I filed into the room, I began to have my doubts. What if they were terrible? It would be hard to make my way out, a downside of buying a mosh ticket. Slowly the room filled and the lights dimmed. My world quickly became a throng of bodies and an empty, illuminated stage; I could feel people breathe behind me, could feel the slightest shuffle, the room was so crowded. A few people whooped or chattered, but for the most part there was just an expectant silence.
Slowly the band members walked on stage, carrying far more instruments than they could ever play. They kept filing on, until nine musicians were all crammed onto that tiny stage. They plugged in their instruments: guitars, cellos, drums, violins, basses and a keyboard, before they started to play. A large screen in the background flickered on and the crowd fell silent. As the band started to play, it was barely noticeable; a few guitar notes were plucked repeatedly, softly. Everyone went silent, like they were expecting something wonderful. More band members began to play and the music slowly built up and on itself, while film-grained images flickered on the screen at an increasing rate. The guitars and violins faded, until there was only a soft cello and a faint rapping on the drums. Then they all started to play and a wave of sound washed over me, over the crowd. The flashing images behind the band’s silhouette were all I could see; the layers of music were all I could hear. Isolated in this world of sensory stimulation, I could barely feel myself move with the crowd, swaying back and forth to the rhythm. This reverie continued until the end of the song, when we all snapped back to reality to cheer and whistle. This cycle continued through the night, causing me to lose all sense of time. All I knew was the music, the video and the people surrounding me, in our private world.
To say it was magical would be making light of the experience.
The last song finished and they bowed, before unplugging and walking off the stage. We cheered until we were hoarse, the lights came on and we were asked to leave. We slowly filed out, back into reality, going our own ways.
Good for Belonging?
Slowly the band members walked on stage, carrying far more instruments than they could ever play. They kept filing on, until nine musicians were all crammed onto that tiny stage. They plugged in their instruments: guitars, cellos, drums, violins, basses and a keyboard, before they started to play. A large screen in the background flickered on and the crowd fell silent. As the band started to play, it was barely noticeable; a few guitar notes were plucked repeatedly, softly. Everyone went silent, like they were expecting something wonderful. More band members began to play and the music slowly built up and on itself, while film-grained images flickered on the screen at an increasing rate. The guitars and violins faded, until there was only a soft cello and a faint rapping on the drums. Then they all started to play and a wave of sound washed over me, over the crowd. The flashing images behind the band’s silhouette were all I could see; the layers of music were all I could hear. Isolated in this world of sensory stimulation, I could barely feel myself move with the crowd, swaying back and forth to the rhythm. This reverie continued until the end of the song, when we all snapped back to reality to cheer and whistle. This cycle continued through the night, causing me to lose all sense of time. All I knew was the music, the video and the people surrounding me, in our private world.
To say it was magical would be making light of the experience.
The last song finished and they bowed, before unplugging and walking off the stage. We cheered until we were hoarse, the lights came on and we were asked to leave. We slowly filed out, back into reality, going our own ways.
Good for Belonging?