The last time I went to a concert alone, I rode my bike
through the rolling hills of the Connecticut River Valley in Western
Massachusetts to a small church where I saw of all things a hardcore punk
concert. I honestly can't even remember who was playing-Minutemen? Suicidal Tendencies? I was one
of maybe two women there and for sure the only person on a janky old 10 speed.
I snapped up a ticket months ago to see James Blake, a young
British musician with the most hauntingly beautiful voice. I had his first
album on constant repeat when I was traveling recently and his soothing
voice and electronic sound made a perfect backdrop to the insanity of airline travel.
At one point three
friends were going to be at the show but over the course of a few weeks each
one had family commitments that prevented them from attending so I asked one of
my young free spirited friends at the last minute. After a series of comical
mishaps of modern communication, I ended up getting dropped off since my friend
thought I had bought his ticket and I thought he was buying his own. This happens more often than one would think but there I was.
Although I had run into five people I knew at the last show
at First Avenue, it was clear from the youthful crowd that I was not going to
know anyone this time. I did what any modern mom would do in this situation - pulled out
my phone and starting messaging my daughter time zones away, wishing she could
enjoy James Blake with me and we could take in the scene together. I lamented
my solitary predicament and she reminded me that her music loving friend Henry
went to lots of shows alone before he died unexpectedly last month so I could soldier on alone. Mother-daughter pep talks are wonderful no matter what the medium or time of night.
The concert began with a body-thumping baseline that
vibrated every single aging cell in my body. My nose was tickling and my heart
was trying to escape through my throat. I had to retreat to higher ground with as much dignity as possible. There was however a lot of canoodling in the old lady balcony that night, which should not have surprised
me given James Blake's sultry voice. However when the lanky blonde next to me decided
this was the perfect time to show her male friend just how much she was into
him, I had to find another vantage point.
These awkward public displays of passion are the kind of concert
predicaments that are way more fun to laugh about with a friend or daughter by your side.
 | ||
| not sleazy at all |
Back in the
80’s when I went out dancing in NY and SF or went to hear live music I was constantly surrounded by lust
so I should not have been surprised given the age group of my fellow James
Blake fans- I had just forgotten about that part of the music scene. Life is full of surprises no matter what the decade.
Love and Peace.
Love and Peace.
