Music is a transformative beast.
It can levitate the soul and make the world disappear: it can uplift or destroy the listener.
Live music is a bigger monster. At its most basic level, live music is a group activity meant to be shared with those around you, but in its greatest moments, the live music experience is singularly shared with one fan and the band.
No on else exists.
Recently I was standing in the general admission section (story of my life) of a Greensky Bluegrass concert, when I was quickly taken away from the music by the 60 year old lady in front of me. Standing by herself, clutching a beer, this woman was quietly swaying to the beat of the music…but it wasn’t really swaying per say…no, she was actually rhythmically shifting her weight from her right foot to her left foot much like the way ET walks down the street chasing Elliot…left, right, left, right. The ebb and flow of ET walking changed as the music sped up and slowed down; but, just when I thought she might burrow a hole in the alcohol soaked floor, she stopped to take a sip of her beer and change her direction completely. “ET walking” quickly shifted into a circular motion much like a merry go round.
Around and around her body would circle making smaller and larger spheres depending on the speed of the rhythm.
Just when I thought the carousel would come off the track, she stopped to take a sip of her beer and then change back to ET walking.
She continued this rhythmic exercise throughout the entire concert directly in front of me and it was BEAUTIFUL.
This woman was lost in the music. I didn’t exist, the people having to step out of her way depending on whether she was ET or a carousel, did not exist. She was having the time of her life listening to music she obviously loved and it was a privilege to witness it. Sure, it made me giggle and it may have taken away from my personal experience at the live show, but the joy and pure happiness exuded from her overall being was something I will never forget.
At least she didn’t spill her beer.