Earlier this month, I saw Yellowcard perform at the Masquerade in Atlanta as part of their farewell tour. This is a band I’ve listened to pretty much as long as I’ve listened to music and, though many dropped off after "Ocean Avenue," I have been with them every step of the way. As I sang along with my best friend who has joined me in far too many shows to ever hope to count, saying goodbye to a band I love, I couldn’t help but be a bit emotional.
Before the band took the stage, an audio track of a man with a deep announcer voice gave a funny monologue telling the audience members who planned to watch the entire concert through their phone camera that the songs they are recording have been recorded before and that basically they are blowing their chance to really experience the show. I have to agree.
While many aspects of my life has changed and I have gone through numerous phases (I was sadly one of the many who suffered from the emo skinny jean phase in middle school) one of the constants has been live music. From the moment my friend and I asked his mom to take us to see Shinedown when I was 13 just because we liked “Second Chance” and maybe two other songs, I have been going to concerts constantly. In high school I practically lived at the New Brookland Tavern, singing my voice out to bands I loved, probably nearly getting knocked out in mosh pits and meeting new friends.
There is something incredibly special about seeing a band live. I, as a kid who was obsessed with Green Day to a scary level, saw them play an around-three-hour set that blew my 13-year old mind. I’ve been to many music festivals with groups of friends where we literally had paper and pen so that we could plan out our day perfectly in order to see as many bands if possible, even if it meant rushing to a stage to get a good spot instead of eating lunch. I watched one of my favorite bands, Tonight Alive, grow from a band fresh from Australia playing a small set to an audience who didn’t know them to being on magazine covers and playing headlining shows where the audience is chanting back the lyrics that I once awkwardly sang alone. I’ve tried (and failed) to hold back tears at an Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties show. I’ve seen The Chariot’s drummer throw his drum set into the crowd and then jump down and continue to play. I’ve traveled four hours by myself to see Lights play because apparently it’s hard to find someone to travel through snow and icy roads to see a somewhat obscure Canadian pop artist. The memories go on and on.
When thinking about all the memories I’ve had at shows and how crucial it was to making me who I am today, I really feel like Yellowcard’s message, while funny, actually hits home on a far more serious level. I can’t help but feel that if I had been watching all the concerts I’ve been to through a phone screen and trying to get the perfect shot like I see increasingly more and more people doing, my memories wouldn’t be half as special as they are. Sure, I would have a low-quality video to remember the show by, but that’s not what I go to shows for. I go to shows to experience a connection with the band and have a good time with my friends and strangers, and I feel like this is difficult to do when you are holding up a phone instead of moshing, dancing or generally just enjoying the show.
I won’t tell you how to live your life, but if you are one who records entire concerts on their phone, I would simply implore that you try to make yourself put the phone away next time and see what happens. I, like everyone, have developed the urge to constantly pull out my phone and document everything, but I have found that my experience is better when I put the phone away and just experience the show.
Life is short, and you won’t always have the opportunity to experience seeing the artists you love. I’ve never been more aware of that than now as just in the last few years many bands I love have broken up and artists I love have passed away, and as I get older I suspect it will continue to happen at a more rapid pace. So, as someone whose life has been legitimately changed and molded by the experience of live music, I urge you to stop making excuses and see the bands you’ve always been dying to see, and if you do, remember to take time to live in the moment and soak it all in, because the chance will pass you by if you don’t.