I still remember my first concert experience. My first impression was realizing that this live music experience was like no other. It had its own rhythm and ritual. It had its own fuel. I entered this world, and I was now part of it. I had the ticket to get in, I earned my rite of passage, and I was now one of the initiated. I was hooked for life.
Years later, I still revel in the concert experience. There is nothing like live music. NOTHING. It is both a deeply personal experience and simultaneously, a communal one. It is a time when empaths can sway through all the emotions freely. It is an exuberant time for us.
The songs evoke emotion. And often the emotion is linked to the memories of our lives – both the good times and the dark ones. When you hear a band live (rather than a recording), the experience is magnified. The singer is speaking to you. You feel the words and the notes. You may be singing or dancing along with him or her.
And then it becomes something bigger. It becomes a communal experience shared with those around you. You may nod to each other. You may sway together. They feel it as well. They remember it as well. It is the only time these days that I am comfortable in a crowd – that I feel this is my community, just for this moment, just in this space of time. It is a singular experience that will never be exactly repeated.
I went to a concert two days ago, and I am still in a state of semi-eupohria. That’s how good it was. The singer was intense, the band was at its best, the venue was beautiful, and I was with someone I love. But really, the best part of the concert was the connection. This singer literally reached out to us during the show – to us, his devoted fans. He climbed across the chairs into the audience to get closer to us without missing a beat. He captivated me all over again. It was personal and it was communal and the music swept through us. And I was once again grateful for the live music experience.