The Event Review you Probably Don’t Care About but Should: Courtney Love and Concert Going
My thanks to one Jacob Huggins for the fantastic photo above of Courtney in all her loveliness at Metro City on Wednesday the 13th. As you will soon learn I never take my phone out at events and so I never get such sweet snaps
So anyone who has met me and spent at least an hour or two around me (particularly if there is some beer involved) is probably very aware that I am huge fan of Courtney Love. On Wednesday night she played her first Australian show since 1999 and her first show in Australia overall without the other members of her former band Hole. Needless to say I was hugely excited, had the time of my life, cried, constant waves of euphoria and so forth blah, blah, blah. I could very easily type out a full review; but that would essentially be a masturbatory exercise on my part as I would probably just write in circles of admiration for the fifty year old rock queen.
That I fear, would not be very interesting to anyone except me and perhaps one girl I met who seemed overly empathetic to everyone while asking them if they ‘feel it as deep’ as she does when Courtney sings…she was fun.
Suffice to say that Courtney Love as a performer is at one of her strongest points in years, with her vocalizations surprisingly strong and her charisma on stage, interaction and playful banter with the audience gave us all as much of the Courtney loveness we could have asked for. It was a truly special treat of an evening for any fan of hers.
But I thought for this article it would prove more interesting to explore the overall act of concert going; which is honestly one that really has a lot of problems with it when you stop and think about it. So please join me as I suck all the fun out of your next gig by drawing attention to all the shitty elements you’ll inevitably have to deal with.
Your bladder is the first shitty roadblock in the way of your enjoyment and it pretty much points out that we, as a species, need to go to concerts more in order to eventually evolve beyond the need to urinate at inappropriate times. Concerts are filled with much people and much booze; the good ones are anyways, and when you are downing liquid refreshments either prior to or at the event, the eventuality is that you’ll need to dispose of said liquid. So when you're standing in the line as you have been for the past hour and waiting to go in, most are hoping for a premo spot but when you get in the first place you have to go to is the toilet. Or, suppose by some lovely twist of fate you don’t need to pee in the line, you simply go in and get you spot right up the front, you stand there waiting for about an hour or more for the warm up act and by the time that thing that no one really gives a shit about is over, nature calls and you either have to move or deal with that feeling for the rest of your concert going experience. Ew.
But say that you are not one of those people who are dying for the front row, for being right at the fucking barrier that will bring you that little bit closer in proximity to that rock star that you base your own personal philosophy around. You’re pretty much the odd one out my friend; you may be able to go pee but good luck finding people who are keen to stick with you.
I’ve never been one for the front row and it is not because I don’t enjoy a good mosh pit, they are just fine at times, but quite frankly if I have spent money to go see an artist I will probably want to be able to move around a little bit. Being in the centre of a mosh is a bit different, if you don’t mind elbows everywhere and you don’t get some whiny people around you, that’s pretty good. Everyone tends to keep everyone moving. The problem with the barrier of a concert is that the people at the barrier are generally assholes. They stand there, barely moving, normally holding a phone up and viewing the concert through that. Now, if you want to take a video or a picture that’s fine but don’t complain that I am being too loud or am moving around too much, it is a fucking concert you dildo.
All of the above are partly the reasons why I end up inside what I am assuming is another one of society's little minorities; that is, people who go to concerts alone. Now, I don’t always do this out of choice, most of the time it is because I apparently have no friends who have any sense of taste when it comes to music. But, on the odd occasion I have gone alone because I have known that the person or persons I wanted to go with will want to be right up at the barrier. I just simply cannot abide by that when I am going to go see what I consider to be one of the most important musical influences in my life, sorry.
People have reacted time and time again when they ask who I went with to a gig and I say no one with a resounding, 'nawwww', which is really misplaced. I like the people I know, and when I go to events with them it's fun, but there are certain pleasures that being alone at a concert affords you.
Firstly, you can go where you want, and pee when you want because no one is all "ergh we have to save the space" or "ergh wait for me, I don’t wana be alone" and so on. It also gives you ample opportunity to meet new people. You already have a strong musical interest and feelings of optimism and bliss in common, why not start there? I must have met, talked to, drunk with, and danced with at least ten very different people from different age groups, backgrounds and varying levels on intoxication.
By the time Courtney had arrived on stage I was, as per usual, off to the side with my area of space and pretty much hanging with the older crowed who were done with their moshing days. The dude who was dancing beside me must have been the worst dancer of all time but we had a good couple of screams in each other’s faces, drank beer together and swung each other back and forth during Malibu which was really just lovely.
There is also however a bit of a stranger side to being a young, alone, obviously gay guy at a Courtney Love concert. A man of about fifty kept trying to dance on me, and as nice as he was; he bought me a beer, by the end it was a little bit much. He had offered me everything from dexies to amyl nitrate. I’m sure he was perfectly harmless but it gets a tad annoying when someone continues to pester you and mother fucking Courtney Love is on stage, like c’mon show some respect for her and give it up, show some love for the Queen of Rock.