(no subject)
All Access Pass
By Kathryn Muat Period 6
“Do you have a backstage pass?” the security guard inquired.
“No…”
“Well then I wouldn’t get your hopes up about meeting the band, miss,” he said with a laugh. Dejected, I examined my shoes with a sad look on my face. The concert had yet to begin and already my effort to meet Maroon 5 was going full-throttle. I figured with enough perseverance, and half the charm of my smutty brother in law, it might be possible. Apparently feeling guilty for squashing a young girl’s dream of meeting her favorite artist he added, “I’ll see what I can do for ya’.”
Returning to my mother’s side I told her what had just happened. Excitedly, I finished, “so I might get to meet the band Mom!” Nodding her head apathetically she wiped my face clean of its smile.
By the time we entered the stadium many people had already found their seats. Our tickets read General Admission, meaning three hours standing surrounded by people you don’t know, in closer quarters than one would feel comfortable even with family. The only odors found whafting through the air of this pit forty-five minutes into the performance would be the ever present blend of alcohol and sweat, as well as the occasional scent of marijuana. But to me, sacrificing my personal space and comfort for the entirety of the show was well worth the torture, because also for that three hours, I was no more than twelve feet away from Adam Lavine, the lead singer of Maroon 5.
Maroon 5 has been my favorite band since the beginning of Freshmen year. The variety of styles they play, the meaningful lyrics, and of course, Adam Lavine’s soulful voice are what made me such a loyal fan. Maroon 5 is to me, what The Beatles were to my mother. Two years later, when the opportunity to attend one of their concerts arose there was no doubt in my mind that I would be there.
After sitting, or rather standing, through the two opening acts there was a short break to set up the stage and instruments. The first performance was by Sarah Bareilles, a cute, young, brunette whose voice crooned her lyrics with an angst you could feel. After her performance, I watched her saunter off stage and decided to follow.
“Sarah!” I shouted to get her attention.
“You have an amazing voice!” I said, “I’m going to buy your CD right now.” She appeared to be truly flattered. The other band seemed only to perform to make Maroon 5 look godly by comparison.
Finally, Maroon 5 took the stage. They sounded and looked amazing. Adam felt his music throughout his body, moving with it and feeling his voice, hitting every note. Often the band mates would play, focusing on each other, improvising the solos, all perfectly in sync. The ebbing flow of energy came to an apex for me when they played “Sunday Morning,” my favorite song. While singing, Adam Lavine looked me right in the eyes. I knew every word to every song they played that night. I never imagined any band could perform with so much heart and soul. I’ve been to concerts before, but this was the only of its caliber. Most bands compensate for a lack of enthusiasm, or in some cases talent, by having laser light or pyrotechnic shows, elaborately costumed dancers, or flashy backgrounds distracting from the actual performance. Maroon 5 had none of these. The keyboardist sported a “Feminist” T-shirt; Adam Lavine, the lead singer, with his plain buzz-cut hair, wore loose, blue jeans and a white, long sleeve, button-up shirt. I feel this is music at its best. Maroon 5 didn’t need distractions to rock the house. Their music was all it took to engergize the band and the audience throughout the night.
Watching them leave the stage, my heart sank. As the floor cleared and the over head lights flickered on, I realized my original objective: to meet the band. My eyes darted around frantically, scanning the room. Suddenly I spotted the security guard, from before the show, standing behind the orange fencing just to the right of the stage. Hurriedly, I closed the gap between he and I, weaving through the crowd.
“Sir, is there any possible way you could help me meet Maroon 5? They’ve been my favorite band for two years,” I pleaded. His burly arms were folded across his chest above his large belly. For a moment he remained frozen, but then suddenly his visage broke. He reached his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a rectangular sticker wit ha picture of the band which read: Maroon 5 Meet and Greet.
“Take this and go up to the merchandise area, that’s where they’re meeting.”
*~*~*~*
“What’s your name?” said a well-dressed woman holding a clip board.
I can’t be on this list, I thought “Oh, nevermind,” I said as I stormed off tearing the sticker from my chest.
“Honey, maybe we should just go home…” crooned my mother, putting her arm around my shoulder.
“No mom, I wanna meet them and I know I can…just hang on.” Turning around, I observed the small crowd. Then I noticed Sarah Bareilles and the other band standing by the merchandise. For the second time that night I approached Sarah; I asked her to sign my CD and then made small talk until I could launch my plan.
“So did you have fun tonight?” she inquired.
“Yeah, but I really wanted to meet Maroon 5, they’ve been my favorite band for two years now, I love their music so much.”
She studied me with her soft, brown eyes, smiled and pulled the “Maroon 5 Tour ’04 ALL ACCESS PASS” sticker from her thigh, then slapping it on my own. “I hope you get to meet ‘em! Have fun!” and with that I was on my way.
For the second time I encountered a business woman with a clipboard. “18…19…20…21? What’s your name? Did you win the radio contest?” briefly we made eye contact and I found I couldn’t lie.
“No,” I said no longer able to hold the stare.
She continued looking at me, however, stepped aside, and said, “Go ahead.” 15 minutes later the band entered the hallway, greeting us in the order we stood. First came the guitarist and keyboardist, both the shy intellectual typel; they stuck together for the comfort of companionship. “You guys were really great! Oh my gosh! And the guitar solos were amazing!!”
“You know how to get straight to his heart,” said the keyboardist. I hugged them both and then moved on, saying Happy Birthday to Mickey, the bassist. At last, it was my turn to meet Adam Lavine. Words stampeded inside my brain, and everything I’d wanted to say became a jumbled mess. I told him how well they had played and how much I loved their music.
“You’ve got the old-school Maroon 5 tank top on” he said to me.
“I know, I’ve been a fan for two years now.” With that he signed my shirt, I got a hug and I watched him walk away.
On my way out I ran into the woman who let me through the red ropes, “I always reward honesty,” she said, adding a wink.
“Thank!” I said grinning ecstatically, for it would be a night I would always remember.
By Kathryn Muat Period 6
“Do you have a backstage pass?” the security guard inquired.
“No…”
“Well then I wouldn’t get your hopes up about meeting the band, miss,” he said with a laugh. Dejected, I examined my shoes with a sad look on my face. The concert had yet to begin and already my effort to meet Maroon 5 was going full-throttle. I figured with enough perseverance, and half the charm of my smutty brother in law, it might be possible. Apparently feeling guilty for squashing a young girl’s dream of meeting her favorite artist he added, “I’ll see what I can do for ya’.”
Returning to my mother’s side I told her what had just happened. Excitedly, I finished, “so I might get to meet the band Mom!” Nodding her head apathetically she wiped my face clean of its smile.
By the time we entered the stadium many people had already found their seats. Our tickets read General Admission, meaning three hours standing surrounded by people you don’t know, in closer quarters than one would feel comfortable even with family. The only odors found whafting through the air of this pit forty-five minutes into the performance would be the ever present blend of alcohol and sweat, as well as the occasional scent of marijuana. But to me, sacrificing my personal space and comfort for the entirety of the show was well worth the torture, because also for that three hours, I was no more than twelve feet away from Adam Lavine, the lead singer of Maroon 5.
Maroon 5 has been my favorite band since the beginning of Freshmen year. The variety of styles they play, the meaningful lyrics, and of course, Adam Lavine’s soulful voice are what made me such a loyal fan. Maroon 5 is to me, what The Beatles were to my mother. Two years later, when the opportunity to attend one of their concerts arose there was no doubt in my mind that I would be there.
After sitting, or rather standing, through the two opening acts there was a short break to set up the stage and instruments. The first performance was by Sarah Bareilles, a cute, young, brunette whose voice crooned her lyrics with an angst you could feel. After her performance, I watched her saunter off stage and decided to follow.
“Sarah!” I shouted to get her attention.
“You have an amazing voice!” I said, “I’m going to buy your CD right now.” She appeared to be truly flattered. The other band seemed only to perform to make Maroon 5 look godly by comparison.
Finally, Maroon 5 took the stage. They sounded and looked amazing. Adam felt his music throughout his body, moving with it and feeling his voice, hitting every note. Often the band mates would play, focusing on each other, improvising the solos, all perfectly in sync. The ebbing flow of energy came to an apex for me when they played “Sunday Morning,” my favorite song. While singing, Adam Lavine looked me right in the eyes. I knew every word to every song they played that night. I never imagined any band could perform with so much heart and soul. I’ve been to concerts before, but this was the only of its caliber. Most bands compensate for a lack of enthusiasm, or in some cases talent, by having laser light or pyrotechnic shows, elaborately costumed dancers, or flashy backgrounds distracting from the actual performance. Maroon 5 had none of these. The keyboardist sported a “Feminist” T-shirt; Adam Lavine, the lead singer, with his plain buzz-cut hair, wore loose, blue jeans and a white, long sleeve, button-up shirt. I feel this is music at its best. Maroon 5 didn’t need distractions to rock the house. Their music was all it took to engergize the band and the audience throughout the night.
Watching them leave the stage, my heart sank. As the floor cleared and the over head lights flickered on, I realized my original objective: to meet the band. My eyes darted around frantically, scanning the room. Suddenly I spotted the security guard, from before the show, standing behind the orange fencing just to the right of the stage. Hurriedly, I closed the gap between he and I, weaving through the crowd.
“Sir, is there any possible way you could help me meet Maroon 5? They’ve been my favorite band for two years,” I pleaded. His burly arms were folded across his chest above his large belly. For a moment he remained frozen, but then suddenly his visage broke. He reached his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a rectangular sticker wit ha picture of the band which read: Maroon 5 Meet and Greet.
“Take this and go up to the merchandise area, that’s where they’re meeting.”
*~*~*~*
“What’s your name?” said a well-dressed woman holding a clip board.
I can’t be on this list, I thought “Oh, nevermind,” I said as I stormed off tearing the sticker from my chest.
“Honey, maybe we should just go home…” crooned my mother, putting her arm around my shoulder.
“No mom, I wanna meet them and I know I can…just hang on.” Turning around, I observed the small crowd. Then I noticed Sarah Bareilles and the other band standing by the merchandise. For the second time that night I approached Sarah; I asked her to sign my CD and then made small talk until I could launch my plan.
“So did you have fun tonight?” she inquired.
“Yeah, but I really wanted to meet Maroon 5, they’ve been my favorite band for two years now, I love their music so much.”
She studied me with her soft, brown eyes, smiled and pulled the “Maroon 5 Tour ’04 ALL ACCESS PASS” sticker from her thigh, then slapping it on my own. “I hope you get to meet ‘em! Have fun!” and with that I was on my way.
For the second time I encountered a business woman with a clipboard. “18…19…20…21? What’s your name? Did you win the radio contest?” briefly we made eye contact and I found I couldn’t lie.
“No,” I said no longer able to hold the stare.
She continued looking at me, however, stepped aside, and said, “Go ahead.” 15 minutes later the band entered the hallway, greeting us in the order we stood. First came the guitarist and keyboardist, both the shy intellectual typel; they stuck together for the comfort of companionship. “You guys were really great! Oh my gosh! And the guitar solos were amazing!!”
“You know how to get straight to his heart,” said the keyboardist. I hugged them both and then moved on, saying Happy Birthday to Mickey, the bassist. At last, it was my turn to meet Adam Lavine. Words stampeded inside my brain, and everything I’d wanted to say became a jumbled mess. I told him how well they had played and how much I loved their music.
“You’ve got the old-school Maroon 5 tank top on” he said to me.
“I know, I’ve been a fan for two years now.” With that he signed my shirt, I got a hug and I watched him walk away.
On my way out I ran into the woman who let me through the red ropes, “I always reward honesty,” she said, adding a wink.
“Thank!” I said grinning ecstatically, for it would be a night I would always remember.