My Love for Live Music

Glamorous

Indie rock'n'roll is what I need

It's in my soul, it's all I need
Indie rock'n'roll, it's time
...It's Indie rock'n'roll for me  

-"The Killers", Glamorous Indie Rock

Cause she's an indie rocker
And nothing's gonna stop her. 

-"Archers of Loaf", Plumbline

I should have saved my ticket stubs.

We were 16.  It was my friend Erin's first time driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike (and those tunnels can be pretty scary.)  We were visiting her older sister at Shippensburg, and one of our favorite bands, "Live", was playing that night.  The spotlight shined a beam directly onto Ed Kowalczyk's freshly shaven head, and chills went down my spine as I heard the first guitar rift and the lyrics that I had listened to on my CD player over and over: "And to love, the god.  And to fear, a flame.  And to burn, a crowd that has a name.  And to right, or wrong.  And to meek, or strong.  It is known, just scream it from the wall."  It was the mid-nineties, and I was experiencing my first ever real live rock show.

The following summer, I saw "P.J. Harvey", and a few weeks later, "Ben Folds Five."  There was no turning back.

During our first year at college, my best friend from high school, Julie, and some of her new friends traveled from Eastern College to Lehigh to watch a "Tori Amos" concert with me.  Later that Spring, I got to see "Morphine" play on an outside stage during a campus event.

But around my Junior year at Lehigh, when I became friends with a group of College Radio DJ's and a local Record Store employee, serious music aficionados who were willing to hop into a car and drive to Philadelphia or New York City to watch a show any day of the week, at any time of the day or night, my concert going stepped up to a whole new level.  From 1999 until graduating in 2002, live music, and mostly music played by bands who were on small, independent labels, played a huge role in my life.  I vividly remember the first time I saw "Built to Spill" (and the second, and the third.)  "Guided by Voices" was pure entertainment, with Robert Pollard consuming can after can of beer while copping "The Who" moves on stage, tossing out just enough gems to keep everyone cheering for more.  The hour+ drive to The Trocadero, Theater of the Living Arts, or the Electric Factory in Philadelphia was totally worth it to see, "Superchunk," "Idlewild," and "Belle & Sebastian."  I would have spent my last dollar (and did, on several occasions) to make the trip to Hoboken, park the car, and take the Path Train/subway into Manhattan and Brooklyn venues like Irving Plaza, the Bowery Ballroom, Mercury Lounge, Williamsburg's Music Hall, Terminal 5, or the Knitting Factory to see "Stephen Malkmus" (from "Pavement") or "Yo La Tengo."

Post-college, I was able to catch "Calexico" in Boulder, Colorado, and saw an incredible "Modest Mouse" show at the famous Red Rocks Amphitheater near Denver.  We caught "The Flaming Lips" while they were on their 'Yoshimi' tour (and I'll never forget how absolutely ridiculous they looked when their strobe lights, videos of Japanese gun-wielding school girls, and amps blew a fuse, and they were left standing mid-song in gigantic bunny costumes.)  Secretly, though, I still loved them.

As a young professional in my early twenties, the fun didn't stop.  Making frequent weekend trips from Madison, New Jersey (and later, from apartments in the Lower East Side and Queens), I got to see some more of my heroes perform live: "David Kilgour": (from "The Clean"), "Apples in Stereo," "Crooked Fingers" (featuring Eric Bachmann from "Archers of Loaf"), and the ultimate cool rock-geek, "Arto Lindsay."  I even trudged through a blizzard in foot-high snow to see "Yo La Tengo" play, part of their annual '8 Days of Hannukah' event at Maxwell's in Hoboken.  During the CMJ Music Marathon (oh, and by the way, let this post be a tribute to that great annual October event, going on right now in NYC), I predicted that "The Strokes" would never make it (oops; maybe it was because they were just a bunch of sloppy drunks on stage?) and saw "Animal Collective" when they were just a couple of nerdy rockers (albeit nerdy rockers with serious potential.)  Living in New York City was incredible for an indie rock lover; one day, I stumbled across a "Wilco" show in Central Park.  Another day, I recognized a favorite song and stopped in to watch "Calexico" playing a free show in the Virgin Records Megastore in Union Square.  

In 2006, I moved to Rwanda, then to Namibia, then to Romania... fantastic places to live for a million different reasons, but not exactly along the concert circuit of the average indie band.  Only now do I realize just how good I had it back then, living in, or close to, cities that regularly host amazing musicians. I was there!  I soaked in the music, and met some of my favorite singers, song writers, and musicians!  I still love their music, and follow the bands' updates online.  But man oh man, I wish I would have saved all of those ticket stubs, just to be able to flip through and remember the exact dates, the venues, the opening bands, even the prices.  

One of these days, I'll get back into the concert scene.  Live music is just plain too good to stay away from for long.  At the very least, I still need to see "Beck" and "Iron & Wine" and "Thom Yorke"/'Radiohead" and "Band of Horses" and...