SnowGhost Music

Perhaps you've read some previous SnowGhost blogs, and you've already made acquaintences with Ted. Most recently I wrote about our exciting adventure to a Bright Eyes show together, and coincidentally, this led us into an even more recent conversation about live shows in general. As you might recall, I was mainly bummed about the sound not being so good, whereas Ted was pissed that the show started early and he missed the opening band. We essentially felt the same about the show overall, despite having totally different criteria and experiences. So we decided to put on our lab-coats, fire up our Bunsen burners, and come up with some kind of equation for what makes a good show. The mathematic equation looks like this:

x/2 ? Y(ab-3/4q) - x/II ^88? "average" + 5* = Z%

Here to help me explain what this means without actually explaining the preceding equation to any degree whatsoever is Ted, who would like it to be known that he is still wearing his lab-coat, which includes an extended front pocket to allow room for more gadgets. We have broken the discussion down into sections for your organizational pleasure.

The venue and the cost

Ted: This is the first thing I ask. Where are they playing? I'm not as concerned with how far away I have to go as much as I am with where I'm going. I love the smaller clubs and playhouse type of places where I know I won't have to watch a screen to see that the people responsible for making the music onstage are in fact the band I came to see. I'll go to a bigger place, but only if I get decent seats and if it's a band I know I'll never be able to see anywhere else ever again.
SG: Which brings up the cost...
Ted: Exactly. The second thing I ask. I paid a lot to see the Police in a stadium, but I knew I had to and it was totally worth it. I wore my Synchronicity shirt and called my dad before and after the show. For anyone else, your overpriced ticket will not get you Ted at your shows.

Atmosphere

SG: And then there was the time when we saw Superchunk open up for some crappy punk band at an all ages show, and a few of the youngsters near you started booing during the opening set.
Ted: I'm still upset about that, those little shits. All ages shows were a hell of a lot cooler when I was in the all ages category. Now I avoid them whenever possible.
SG: Another big part of the atmosphere is who you see a show with, and not just in terms of the audience.
Ted: Indeed. I like to think of the movies in this way. If you go to a show with someone who isn't familiar with the band, isn't that pumped, or is just grumpy, it's like going to see a movie with someone with unusually ridiculous standards. Avoid this. You could be fully enjoying a film in your only world full of wonder and appreciation when your film snob 'pal' leans over and makes negative statements, as if you're interested in leaving your joyous movie bubble and entering his cloudy little pity party. Even though you like the movie, his negative sneers, like 'this is so unrealistic' or 'I think the dialogue is stale' can totally eat away at you. It's a fucking movie, dude. Suspend the disbelief and enjoy some exploding space ships.
SG: And stay in your own bubble. Unless a cell phone rings...
Ted: Like the time I saw that submarine movie. I was so into that fucking movie that I was getting claustrophobic. I was sweating the situation completely, absolutely terrified that we might never see the surface again. And then the guys two seats over gets a phone call and actually starts talking. "Yeah, I'm at the movies. Yeah, the submarine one. It's pretty good and... oh wait, I think someone is attempting to take my phone and or strangle me."
SG: The same goes for shows, right?
Ted: Absolutely. If you're going to a show, let the show be the environment. Let the band make the vibe. It's always great when a band is so good that they can tame an obnoxious crowd, but avoiding the whole obnoxious crowd thing is the way to go. For instance, I've always wanted to see a Tool show, but I could never get past the fear of having to be surrounded by actual hard-core Tool fans. I just know their creepiness would prevent me from getting into it.
SG: Or maybe they would help you get into it in a different way.
Ted: Maybe. I'd probably need drugs.

Expectations

SG: You mentioned before how it might be wise to go to a show with a disinterested or grumpy friend. It would then follow suit that you should avoid going to a show if you are in the same negative state.
Ted: Yes and no. If you don't know the band and it's cheap, the worst thing that can happen is you leave early and go somewhere else. Or maybe you see a band that blows you away. It's always possible to turn a frown upside down with a good show. In fact, the lower the expectations, the better off you'll be. I'll give you two examples. When I was living in a college town and not exactly attending school, I saw Modest Mouse at one of my favorite spots. Moon and Antarctica had just come out, but I was most excited about hearing songs from Long Drive. They rocked out, but almost all the songs were new and they really only played a dozen songs because they spent so much time jamming. I was happy, but let down at the same time.
SG: I suppose the word would be bittersweet.
Ted: Yes. It was bittersweet. Both bitter and sweet.
SG: And the other example?
Ted: Liz Phair a few years ago. I always heard she was stage shy, so I never saw her when she was still making good albums. Then I heard she was coming to town with a band I liked, so I figured I'd go see Matt Pond PA and leave if Liz started playing those horrible new songs that Avril Lavigne or Sheryl Crow must have inspired in her. Matt Pond rocked, but so did Liz Phair. Almost all of the songs were the ones I loved, and she was actually funny and polished. I started calling all of my friends to tell them they were crazy for not going, until they reminded me that it was actually I who advised them not to go in the first place...