Imagine. One of the bands you listen to has just announced a new tour, and your heart skips a beat as your eyes scan the tour poster looking for your date. Finally you find it, and it's the last day of the tour, at your favorite venue, and on a Saturday. Can it get any better than that? For us avid concertgoers this process is all too familiar because we go through it on a routine basis. But for those that are watching us from the outside, it seems like we're insane as our city finally comes into view on the list of many and we all but explode with excitement. It doesn't faze us though, because we know the magic that presents itself at every show we go to makes all those puzzled reactions from others worth it. In case you don't know what magic I'm referring to, let me take a minute of your time to let you in on it.
Going to a concert is one of the most magical experiences in the world for. There could be so much on your mind that it feels like a ton of bricks, and you're so stressed out because of this, that and the other thing, and you could have fallen flat on your face as you walked to the venue, but once you get inside none of that matters. It all seems to just evaporate and disappear, you're finally able to breathe, and you feel...normal. And that's just the beginning.
As you pass through the doors and make your way onto the GA floor you find yourself moving faster than you intended. Before you know it you've joined the blob of people that have started filling up the floor. Or maybe if you're lucky enough, you're right up against the barricade, front and center. You check your phone. An hour until showtime. You turn to your friends and start having casual conversations as you know in the back of your mind that what you've been waiting for literally for months, is finally almost here. Or maybe you came to the show alone. That's okay too. Everyone in the room is here for the same reason so pretty much anyone around you is down for some small talk. But then, before you know it, suddenly, the lights go out and everyone starts to cheer as the first opener walks onto the stage. The openers are cool because there's no better way to discover new bands than to be physically in the room as they play. Plus you already know how they sound live so there's no mask from the studio production. It's just that much more real.
In most cases there are three openers, and with each band and each set change your heart starts to flutter because you're just that much closer to what you came for. You watch the final set change take place with anticipation in your eyes and silently beg them to finish faster. At last, the stage is all set up and the venue personnel that helped make it happen exit the stage and you wait. Any second now the lights will go out and it'll be time for the "main event". Finally it happens. You're suddenly surrounded by darkness for a split second as every voice in the room erupts into cheers and the band walks on the stage. They start to play and you, along with everyone that surrounds you, lose it.
The hour and a half to two hours that their set lasts feels like 20 minutes, but it's the most magical feeling in the world. You feel so unified in the crowd knowing that every single person around you is there for the same reason. As you jump up and down to the beat of songs you love and sing every word at the top of your lungs, you feel untouchable. No feeling in the world compares to it. It's almost as if you're invincible or something, and you just feel so alive. You feel alive in ways that you didn't know were possible. Especially if that band on stage is your favorite band, the one that got you through all the rough patches in your life. You feel alive in special ways especially then.
When you hear the words "this is our last song" you don't think twice because you know it's not. They didn't play the one song that's their staple; the one song that you can count on hearing every time. They play their little game of walking off stage and making the crowd cheer, but sooner than you can blink they're back and it's encore time.
The encore is your last chance to go crazy for the night, so you let it all lose. You sing even louder, jump even faster, and take in every second so it can hold you over until your next show. It flies by in the blink of an eye and then suddenly it's the point in the show when the extra picks, the drumsticks and the setlists are thrown into the crowd. And then they're gone. It's over and you already can't wait until you get to see this band again. You take it all in for another minute or so and then start to head out. Once you're outside you turn to your friend and erupt instantly as you start to talk about how incredible that just was. Or if you came alone you walk the streets smiling to yourself in the most genuine way you know how.
Once you get home you're both wired and exhausted at the same time. You indulge in your post show shower and go to bed the happiest that you've been in the longest time. That concert sure did work its magic. Just like it does every time.
