Hello World.
I went to the BEST CONCERT EVER last night. Now I am suffering from Post-Concert Boredom Disorder, when everything seems boring because nothing can compare to the buzz of the previous night.
The night actually started at 2:45 PM, when my sister and I got in line. Our friend (let’s call her Safari) arrived at 5:30 PM, and our other friend (Dan is now his name) and his friend (uhmm….I now dub him Jordan!) arrived an hour later. By that time, the line wrapped around the block. We were fairly close to the front of the line due to our timeliness in getting to the club.
There was a palpable energy of anticipation and excitement in the air. It was mostly teenagers and 20-somethings, in an assortment of flannels, crop-tops, high-waisted jorts, and Doc Martins. People were sitting on blankets on the sidewalk, ordering pizza, and having conversations with total strangers. Every so often, someone would scream at the top of their lungs just to let off some energy, leading to a chain reaction of reciprocal screams.
The show was completely sold out, which would have been fine except for one thing: Jordan didn’t have a ticket. For some reason, Dan had invited someone who was unable to get in to the performance, and had neglected to mention that the show was sold out. Luckily, Dan had another group of friends who showed up. This is why I believe in fate: they randomly had an extra ticket, and Jordan was able to get in. Also, two of the girls in the group were girls my sister and I knew, but hadn’t seen in five years. There was much yelling, hugging, and smiling.
By this time, it was 8 PM, and we were all anxiously waiting for the doors to open. When they finally did, 15 minutes later, they crowd surged through the door with a cheer. Even though the coat check was closed, Safari’s uncle was working as a bouncer that night, and he allowed us to use a staff closet to store our stuff.
We walked in and got a spot nearish to the stage. We were close, but not right against it (unfortunately). The first opener was okay; the band was called Sir Sly, and they were good except for the fact that the lead singer was very drunk and kind of unable to perform. The flailed around the stage for awhile, and then exited to applause and screaming.
At this point, the crowd was sweaty and hyped up. There was this one kid, who was wearing an American flag bandanna tied around his forehead, who kept shoving through the crowd and shoving or elbowing people who wouldn’t move. Basically, he was behaving like a total asshat. What made it worse was that he was 6’2″ and was shoving tiny little 5’0″ girls out of the way. Safari, the boy next to us, the girls next to us, and I decided that if he tried to push through us again, we would refuse to move.
The next band played, and DAMN the lead singer was hot. And talented. And a good performer. He was the lead singer of a band called Bad Suns. He was not drunk, and was super humble. It was obvious that he was kind of a novice to the stage, but he worked the audience like a pro. I knew some of the songs too, so I could sing along better.
During the next break, the proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan. The boy with the bandanna tried to shove his way through the two girls behind us. One of the girls deliberately kept stepping in front of him, and he was getting angrier and angrier. Safari and I turned around to lend our support, as did the girl’s friend and the guy next to us.
The boy with the bandanna kept saying stuff like “Let me get back to my girl” “Are you drunk? Let me through”. All five of us were yelling back, telling him that if he wanted to be in front of us, he should have stayed there. He told the girl who was blocking him that since she was under 21 he would get his girlfriend to beat her up, and that he was about to punch her. He pushed both girls so hard that they actually fell down. Not cool. Safari, who is actually kind of threatening, told him she would punch him back and “rip his balls off and stomp them into the floor”. The guy left, and unsuccessfully tried to get in by shoving through another part of the crowd, shaking his head and yelling at people who didn’t move. Eventually he was forced to back off and stand in the back.
In the meantime, Safari and I made friends with the three others who had stuck up to him with us. We spent a little while bitching about him, but eventually started joking. One of the topics was the disgusting thing the bouncers were doing: they were opening water bottles and telling the crowd to pass them around. Not only is that a breeding ground for disease, but it is an easy way to get drugged.
Then, strobe lights started flashing, and the crowd roared. The 1975 came out onstage and played their first song. They were amazing. The lead singer, Matt Healy, is absolutely insane, in a sexy, wild kind of way. Instead of bringing water onstage, he downed two bottles of wine during the course of the concert. Unlike the lead singer of Sir Sly, however, being drunk made him an even better performer. He constantly interacted with the crowd. He jumped into the audience and collected all the fan posters, and looked through them. He kissed one girl’s hand. He has this longish dirty hair that wouldn’t work on anybody but him that he constantly runs his hands through. He also went through two cigarettes and stole a third from out of a stage hand’s mouth (by this time he was completely wasted; the stage hand was this big burly guy who cracked up when Matt took the cig). Then, the whole band just left the stage. The stage hands came out and started to take down the set. Just as everyone started mumbling about the show being over, the strobe lights went off and they ran back onstage and launched into a song. Later, Matt explained in a charming, slurred Cockney accent that was impossible to understand that “all the bands do that, to fuck with the audience or somethin'”. The audience was charmed. They finished off the set with their song “Sex”, and yelled their thanks to Providence and the audience. The drummer then proceeded to fling his drumsticks into the audience. One of the drumsticks bounced off my sister’s head and into my face. I WAS ACTUALLY ABLE TO DIVE DOWN AND GRAB THE DRUMSTICK!!!!!!!!! That actually completely made my night.
We spilled out into the lobby, and my sister and I got a picture with the lead singer of Bad Suns. He is actually pretty weird, but in a cute kind of way…in the picture, he put his hands on our heads, and gave both of us hugs after the picture was taken. I will probably never be touched by anyone that attractive again. I would post the picture here, but I look awful because my smile was one of those huge, grin-y ones that scrunch my eyes up and take over my face.
Once my sister, Safari, and I were in Safari’s mom’s car, we passed by the bandanna boy. I was at the window closest to him, and Safari convinced me to scream out the window “I HATE YOUR BANDANNA” at him. The look on his face was sooo worth it.
So yeah. Now I have to return to reality, when all I want to do is relive last night over and over.
Wild Dancer out.
Dance of a Wild Woman 