Audrey Reed
A&E Editor
Don’t laugh. Attending concerts is a very serious business.
When to arrive, where to stand, when to crowd surf, who to mosh with and in what venue to see the band are all variables that could make or break a concert.
My first concert featured country singer Shania Twain. I was in eighth grade and went with former Pepperdine student Tara Powell and my mom. We thought we were so cool dancing and singing to “Don’t be Stupid” and “Whose Bed Have Your Boots.”
Surprisingly (considering my taste in alt-rock music) this experience ignited my obsession with concerts. Since Shania Twain, I’ve seen more 30 concerts including Weezer, Red Hot Chili Peppers, O.A.R., The Dixie Chicks, The Dave Matthews Band, Eve 6, Kelly Osborne, Snoop Dogg and The Wallflowers. (I didn’t mention the most embarrassing concerts.)
I have, as part of my concert fascination, I complied a mental list of memorable concert experiences never before written on paper, until now.
Farthest traveled: 440 miles from College Station, Texas, to Stillwater, Okla., to attend Orange Peel Music Festival featuring Better Than Ezra, Barenaked Ladies and Ben Folds.
Band seen the most: Better Than Ezra. I have been to five of their concerts; however, the last one I attempted to go to was rained out — every concert fanatic’s nightmare.
Concert wish: To hear Cake perform the instrumental “Arco Arena” in Arco Arena in Sacramento, Calif.
Worst in show: Tim Reynolds. Most popularly known for his album with Dave Matthews, “Live at Luther College,” this guy’s solo career does not feature his amazing talent on the guitar. This is the only concert I have ever left early. On a side note, I sneaked out of my house that night to see him play, and I got a parking ticket at the venue.
Biggest concert let down: Depeche Mode in Valparaiso, Chile. While in Argentina for the year, my concert going frequency came to a screeching halt. One day, while walking around Valparaiso, I spotted an advertisement for the concert. We called the venue, and they confirmed that Depeche Mode would be in concert that night. My partner in concert endeavors for the year, junior Chris Wolff, and I traversed a part of town worthy of the label sketchy, only to find the event that night was not a concert, but rather disc jockeys featuring Depeche Mode music.
But for every less desirable memory I have of bad music, there is that memory of laying on quilts and listening to The Dave Matthews Band on a warm summer night, or getting to meet the band members before the show, or hearing “The Sweater Song” by Weezer performed live for the first time while making the “W” sign with my thumbs and fingers.
Going to concerts is a great way to see the true vibe of an artist or band. At the last concert I went to, The Gin Blossoms, the lead singer signed autographs during the encore and picked up fans’ cell phones and sung directly into them. Not something the average “Hey Jealousy” listener would even know about.
I may be hard of hearing by the time I’m 50 years old, but the enjoyment that comes from each concert is worth it.
10-07-2004
