No feature this month again, but I have about 3 lined up for a pretty stacked summer, so forgive me.
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Earlier in May, I attended Kilby Block Party in Salt Lake City with headliners: the Pixies, Pavement, and the Strokes. I drove from Michigan to Colorado to Utah in a matter of 3 days to make this happen. With the help of my friend Eden, we made it to the blandest city in America. Just kidding. I didn’t get a good glimpse of SLC so perhaps a full assessment is unfounded, but from what I saw… that’s one soulless city. Rural Michigan has more spirit.
I want to talk about concert etiquette. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a crowd as bad as the audience at the Strokes. It’s always funny to me when indie people are safeguarded as saints in the live music scene while fans of other genres are villainized. Punk, rap, traditionally more “aggressive” genres end up being the shows with the most respectful people. At a rap show I went to in high school, I was watching guys fistfight in the pit. Blood was drawn, blunts were rolled, and the second someone accidentally stumbled into me, a herd of people pushed the culprit away.
I thought the politics of the pit were universally understood. Everyone is there to have a good time.Many people like to mosh. But all of this occurs with an understanding for everyone’s general wellbeing.
At the Strokes concert, I thought I was going to pass out. And listen, I’m a small woman with severe health issues, but I’ve also been going to concerts since before I began ovulating. I like to think I know a few things about how to exist in a crowd.
When one of the women I was with asked a guy to stop leaning his full body weight on her (he was so inebriated his eyes were crossing and when he laughed it was comically witch-like), his friend, a fully bald adult man, proceeded to scream at us. I only bring up the fact that he was bald because as we (fellow adults) were being reprimanded by a stranger, he became so violently red we thought he was going to swing at us. People are rude all the time, but when there’s a group of men much larger than you threatening you in a confined space, you can’t do much. If I wasn’t 120 pounds, I would’ve gladly put my pointers in his blinkers.
I actually feel better now...
This is what he said after he screamed at us. And this is why so many people make jokes about men needing to go to therapy.
We spent the rest of the hour before the show warning other girls around us, squirming in between warm, damp bodies to try and get away from the Pitbull-from-hell figure. He left shortly after, which was weird considering his outburst signified some sort of stan-status none of us had. We rejoiced, joy ensued.
The Strokes are not my favorite band. If half the crowd had an arm’s worth of skin in the game as far as passion, I had about a fingernail. But no matter how much a band means to you, or any sort of collective focal point, it doesn’t absolve you of the requirement of basic human decency. When you’re in a pit like that, you’re welcoming a reasonable amount of discomfort into your bubble. It doesn’t mean you should have to sacrifice your pride or physical safety in order to enjoy a show. Music means the world tome, but it is sincerely not that deep.
Next time you’re at a concert, try not to scream at anyone. Do it for me.
In other news, the Strokes were amazing.
The image featured in this newsletter was taken by Eden. It features me dissociating and holding her sister’s hand.
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This month’s mix is perfect for the summer season. Picture yourself in a hammock outside (I’m writing this from a cubicle). The hormones are cooking. The vibes are vibing. I’ve got Ruby Waters’ newest track “Flash Flood,” which I wouldn’t recommend playing in public. The spotlights track this month is “Fine” by Emerson Leif. Upon finding this song, I listened to it about five times. It’s so mellow and yet complex. A feast for your ears. You can listen to the June mix here.
Rocka out,
Ally