Music and the City
"TRICK OF LIGHT"
One of my favorite things in the whole world is being at a concert just before the band goes on. Waiting - everyone’s on the same buzz. Suddenly the lights abruptly go out. The entire crowd of thousands upon thousands erupts into deafening hoots and whistles and screams. My arms break out in goose bumps and my stomach flutters. It’s SHOW TIME!
On a much smaller scale, like in a club, the beginning of the show is the most exciting here too. Be it one of your favorite local bands, or one of the bigger groups still favored by rock fans like us who became dwarfed by grunge. Once playing in front of the masses, now they’ve been minimized to playing for a few hundred people per show. It’s sad, yet it’s kind of cool for the fans. Arena concerts, though wonderful and enthralling, are also distant and impersonal.
A few years back I got to see Quiet Riot at a small suburban rock club. If you were up by the stage, the band members only stood a couple of feet taller than you, allowing for eye-contact, touching, and a level of participation to actually make you feel you’re part of the show. And for those audience members who didn’t make their way up to the stage, the club was small enough to still see everything quite well. Meeting the band becomes much easier too. I’ve still got the autograph Kevin DuBrow signed for me!
Early this year though, we were all stunned and saddened to learn of the dismal accident in Rhode Island.
There were two ice-cold realizations that I had after watching the footage of the Great White show becoming almost instantly engulfed by a deadly fire. The first being that I knew what all those fans were feeling as Great White hit the stage. Psyched to see a band you love, and at one of your favorite local clubs no less. Maybe even having talked about it for weeks before hand after seeing the show advertised. Getting your buddies together and then there you are. The band goes on breaking into one of their more popular songs. You think, “This is cool!” while you raise your fist in the air and begin to sing along. Unfortunately, those thoughts and feelings were cut short on that night.
The second dreadful conclusion I’d come to was how that could have happened at any of the shows I’ve been to or my friends had attended. Even with the clubs I went to regularly, I can’t remember if I’d ever paid attention to where the fire exits were. Those rock fans who died could have been any number of my friends.
My heart goes out to the families and friends of all the victims. Though this tragedy is old news to us now; something we don’t think or talk about constantly anymore, those people who lost loved ones are still in anguish and will be for years to come.
Regardless of where you live, it’s hard to feel unconnected from this catastrophe. There’s a strong camaraderie among rock fans that runs deeper than simply the mutual bands we love.
How many of us haven’t been accused, at one time or another, of listening to a “bunch of noise?” Or had to explain to someone who knew no better yet was being judgmental that Ozzy didn’t realize that it was a REAL bat?
The rest of life is hard enough. Concerts are supposed to be a fun escape.
Great White will be touring to raise money for the victims of the fire. They have their own emotional scars to heal as well as the grieving families. Not only did they lose Ty Longley, one of their own, but I’m sure there’s an immense level of guilt resting on their shoulders too. Even if the fire broke out by no fault of their own, how can you be the center of such a terrible calamity and not feel devastated?
Let’s all support this effort and not forget our brothers and sisters of rock who’ve been lost.
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