Drive drive drive! Today I had to drive out of the city to run an errand. Driving south as the sun set. I was singing so loud, my voice was all gravel and cement trucks in my larynx. Buildings shrank as the space between them expanded. At the river the streets are numbered in the 200’s and I found my self at number 3. The border looms in the distance. It looks clear, maybe only 10 minutes to cross. I pass by the truck stops. Monstrous semi’s lay idle. Slumbering giants. Each one from one place and going another.
Is it bad to say that when I go to show’s I’m not always there for the music? That sometimes, maybe most times, my attention is diverted?
I look away from the stage, where the band looks like they are made of play dough; their beings tinted the shade of whatever light has been shone upon them. My gaze falls to the crowd, the backs of their heads. A sea of hairstyles and shoulders bobbing to the rhythm. The LCD screens of cameras that all rise and fall at the same momentous moments like a school of luminescence in the north pacific.
The band innervates the crowd like an artery, like a nerve. Our movements merely a reaction, a reflex, entirely dependant on the surge of blood and electricity they supply.
I like the part when I see two hands side by side, fighting the magnetism of love pulling them together. I like the number one fan. First in line, new t-shirt already on. I like that instant where all of a sudden the space between us all melts into a puddle on the floor and we become one. A single organism, every member if the audience writhes as a whole. The music is ubiquitous, the motion unanimous, the feeling omnipresent. When the energy swells with the chorus, making the air thick and palpable.
I think that will suffice to defend my admission that I’m not always at the show for the music..