Thursday 10 February 2011

I could watch you forever...

I went to see the Hold Steady last night, and before I say anything else I have to put down that I really don't want to be one of those people. One of those people who gush about the music they like and the bands they have seen and brag about what they like and how it's the new big thing. I don't want to come across all tween-scream, gushing 14 year old girl about it. But at the same time, I can't deny greatness. You see last night was brilliant, and for the first time in a long time I feel like I have music again, like it is something forming an integral part of my life and I can enthuse about it. The short of it is I am back in love with it. After last night I had this warm and unbelievably comfortable feeling in the core of my stomach like a really perfect warm dinner after hours of coldness and hunger. I feel all fuzzy-like on the insides, you know? But how can this be because of seeing a bunch of guys playing guitars on a stage? Why does this good feeling come that way? It seems like the world wants me to value solely human interaction. Loving your friends and your family. Don't get me wrong I adore my family. My Families. My friends? Not so much, due to lack of good ones it seems. I think I'm now happy to refill that gap. When I was at high school it's what I did, where people sucked and I just popped in the earphones and zoned it all out. There was some great music then, and of course I was educating myself with the past and all that had happened prior to my existence. But for so long there was a musical drought. Two factors impinged on this; firstly my finding the one person who is like me and the inability to think of anything else other than him; and secondly the lack of music that warrented such love. But now I have a few bands to love once more. Last night's gig was so good. I can tell because it went so fast, and there was no point in checking the time or thinking about how long they had been on. For once the pointless ritual of an encore seemed more meaningful than anything outside of that dark, sticky floored venue. One more tune! Or why not ten! or FIFTY! I could watch you forever...

Like I said, I don't like gushing about music. So many people do it. How many people do you know who say "music is my life"? I tried to distance myself from that in a desperate attempt to not be the same as these people I did not value. I'm not going to hold out anymore. There was something about that gig which transcended the basis of it. It wasn't just music being played for people to listen to. It was a performance. And for the first time in a long, long while I actually felt part of it. For the first time in a long, long time I actually felt part of a crowd, music or otherwise. Maybe I'm just getting all sentimental over a lack of interaction. Maybe nostalgia for days past plays a role (it almost certainly does). Either way last night I stood in the big family, full of understanding and connection, soaking every drop up like a sponge into my pores. Now it rests in the middle and it makes me feel happy and calm and safe and worthwhile as I do the mundane things in life. It rests so well with domestic bliss and it continues to warm me, long after the heat is gone.

theseand theseand theseand theseand theseand also these

No comments:

Post a Comment