COMMENTARY

You don't love live shows: I have questions for concertgoers who record everything

I used to think I was the only one who detested attending concerts, but your actions show I'm not alone

By D. Watkins

Editor at Large

Published August 13, 2023 8:00AM (EDT)

Musicians Mr Dalvin, K-Ci and JoJo of Jodeci perform onstage during Juneteenth: A Global Celebration For Freedom at The Greek Theatre on June 19, 2023 in Los Angeles, California. (Scott Dudelson/Getty Images)
Musicians Mr Dalvin, K-Ci and JoJo of Jodeci perform onstage during Juneteenth: A Global Celebration For Freedom at The Greek Theatre on June 19, 2023 in Los Angeles, California. (Scott Dudelson/Getty Images)

I can be very honest about how I feel about concerts, but it's time for those who record entire shows to share their true feelings as well.

In full transparency, nothing about this article is satirical. I hate concerts. I know, as a Black man who grew up in the '90s, which is often referred to as the Golden Era of Hip-Hop, I'm supposed to love concerts. I should have a collection of Black Moon and Wu-Tang t-shirts and Tupac and Biggie bobbleheads next to a photo album with laminated copies of my first Jay-Z tickets. Well, I would've saved my Jay-Z tickets if I could go back in time; he's the exception not the rule, but other than that, I can't stand concerts. 

I don't like the crowds. The struggle to find parking takes years off of my life. The seats are always too tight, even in the VIP section, and the overpriced food sucks, the overpriced drinks suck, and every line is so long. Ridiculously long – like, how long does it take to buy and serve chicken tenders and canned margaritas? And this isn't the worst. The parking, food and drink doesn't compare to the etiquette of so-called concert lovers, who always feel a need to venture away from the seats they paid for.  

Songs sound better coming out of my Sonos or Apple headphones than some super loudspeaker that could give me tinnitus.

My seats – there is always a person in my seat, leaving me with two highly uncomfortable options. Option one is forcing my way through the aisle with my camera light on, shining that light on the person sitting in my chair and telling them to move as they explain the mix-up and how they made a mistake and sat in the wrong chair. Option two is having the usher embarrassingly escort them out of this section they knew they should not have been in, causing everyone in the row to miss a portion of the concert because they felt a need to get more for their buck. I hate both options equally, but it must be done because I always try to buy the seats with the most legroom. It never fails. I always end up having to play this awkward game of musical chairs, and for what? If I'm being sincere, I'm not even sure I like live music. 

Streaming technology has revolutionized how we engage music. Songs sound better coming out of my Sonos or Apple headphones than some super loudspeaker that could give me tinnitus. And I can stream those songs from home, where the food and drinks are always great and priced just right. At this point, you're probably thinking, why does he go if this guy hates concerts so much? The answer is straightforward: I am married, and my wife loves live music. 

She only prefers live music; if she had it her way, Patti LaBelle would sit in her passenger seat and scream high notes of, "Daydreaming and I'm thinking of you," into her ear, as she drove to work in the morning. This year she has seen Erykah Badu with her close friend, Anita Baker, and Babyface with our moms, in addition to SWV, Jodeci, Dru Hill twice, Janet Jackson, and we are going to see Usher.

Are you a documentary filmmaker? Because that's the only suitable usage for all of that excess footage. 

Thinking of the seats make my knees ache, but I'm a good husband, so if it makes her happy, then I proudly go, attempt to dance with her in between those tight-a** seats, and smile as if I am as excited as a Supreme Court Justice at a Trump rally. These concerts ultimately make me happy because she's content. I know my wife is content, because she is present the entire time, singing every song word for word as she drifts into a place only big enough to hold her in the music. My wife does not pull out her phone, become distracted by other concertgoers or sit down really. Because of that, her actions leave me questioning other people who attend concerts – people who don't seem to be as engaged as her. 

So many claim to love concerts, like my wife, but I feel like they don't really enjoy the show, more like me – mainly because they're spending their time recording the entire event. To better explain my thoughts, I compiled a list of questions I have for people who have the need to document live shows.

  1. Does your arm hurt? These shows are four hours long, and you keep a steady right hand with your camera angled perfectly, even throughout intermissions. How are you able to do that? Do you train? Do you own a Bowflex or a Shake Weight?
  2. Are you trying to steal dance moves for you to use in your own show? 
  3. How many gigs does your phone have? Mine starts acting up after it passes 5,000 photos, so how does your phone operate smoothly with 5,000 hours of video? Is that why people buy Android phones, for their ability to hold 72,000 hours of HD footage? Should I trade my iPhone in? 
  4. Are you a documentary filmmaker? Because that's the only suitable usage for all of that excess footage. 
  5. Do you ever really go back and watch the three to 10 hours of film you just recorded? 

When I tell my friends I hate concerts, they try to make me feel bad. But do those people who record entire shows enjoy themselves? Do they love concerts, or are they just looking for something to do in hopes that it will hurry up and end? I need answers.

 

 


By D. Watkins

D. Watkins is an Editor at Large for Salon. He is also a writer on the HBO limited series "We Own This City" and a professor at the University of Baltimore. Watkins is the author of the award-winning, New York Times best-selling memoirs “The Beast Side: Living  (and Dying) While Black in America”, "The Cook Up: A Crack Rock Memoir," "Where Tomorrows Aren't Promised: A Memoir of Survival and Hope" as well as "We Speak For Ourselves: How Woke Culture Prohibits Progress." His new books, "Black Boy Smile: A Memoir in Moments," and "The Wire: A Complete Visual History" are out now.

MORE FROM D. Watkins


Related Topics ------------------------------------------

Commentary Concerts Live Music Music Social Media