I leave more shows than I stay to the end. This is for those who do the same. There is an awkward moment I used to feel before leaving. "Oh I don't want to be rude." Or there is just a bit of guilt causing anxiety about being noticed for leaving. After a while on planet Earth I realized life is short and precious. I don't have time to sit and suffer. I've left jazz performances (Charlie Haden amongst others!) that I paid good money to see, I left a play at the big playhouse in Portland I payed to see, I've left countless rock shows, noise shows, electronic shows, shows friends of mine were playing.
I don't feel bad about it. In fact, it's the kindest thing I can do sometimes. If I'm suffering the vibe I'm giving off, well, the fan next to me doesn't need that. Nor does the performer. And it's kind to myself. It's the highest expression of love I can offer sometimes.
I was talking to my friend Dan one day and he said this: "I stopped feeling bad when I realized that music has a message, and that when I receive that message I'm free to just go."
I've left some of Dans performances as well. He understands. When I'm feeling it I'm there. When not I'm going home.
Tonight was one of those nights. I stayed for about 15 minutes of a band and felt frustrated. In fact the last 25 years of music that seems to be the primary emotion: frustration. When someone is moaning about on stage and I can't understand a word of it, or can't get the feeling they are trying to convey it triggers my own stuck voice. All those things I want to say to someone I love but the words just don't come. Those moments I feel the division our world is suffering from. There is a veil between myself and the performer, or maybe this just isn't my tribe whatever that means. I don't have the answer except, I feel frustrated. And maybe that is the message, at least for me.
I'm a friend not a fan. How would you rather have me? I heard that one in a discussion I was having about folks who say this: "Ugh I have to go see this band tonight so I can't do the thing I really want to do." Really? You 'have' to? "Yeah well I want to support my friends."
Lying is not support. And they know it unless they are too drunk to smell a lie. Stay home. Show respect for your loved ones and let their fans sort out a good time.
There was a period about 12 years ago when the 'Freak Folk' scare of 2003 took place. I couldn't stand it. All those out of tune folks mumbling about with flowered shirts on. For some reason I took it really personal. And it didn't help that I was surrounded by folks who hated it as well. So I was complaining to my mother about it when she just said basically the same thing Dan said: "You remember going to Quaker church years ago and sitting in the silence for an hour. Someone would stand up and speak if the spirit moved them. You might be one of the few that says 'oh man that's the answer! Thank you! That message was for me!' while the rest are thinking 'jeez I wish this guy would shut up, what a wanker!'" Or the opposite may happen.
A week later I was complaining about the genre to a friend on Mississippi Avenue in Portland when I stopped myself and said out loud: "I don't need to do this ever again! This is the last time I complain about 'freak folk'.
And things got better. And better and continue to.
And I got better at tuning it out, walking out of performances, changing stations, owning my choices and taking care of myself. I got better at expressing love through an honest exit.
JB
I don't feel bad about it. In fact, it's the kindest thing I can do sometimes. If I'm suffering the vibe I'm giving off, well, the fan next to me doesn't need that. Nor does the performer. And it's kind to myself. It's the highest expression of love I can offer sometimes.
I was talking to my friend Dan one day and he said this: "I stopped feeling bad when I realized that music has a message, and that when I receive that message I'm free to just go."
I've left some of Dans performances as well. He understands. When I'm feeling it I'm there. When not I'm going home.
Tonight was one of those nights. I stayed for about 15 minutes of a band and felt frustrated. In fact the last 25 years of music that seems to be the primary emotion: frustration. When someone is moaning about on stage and I can't understand a word of it, or can't get the feeling they are trying to convey it triggers my own stuck voice. All those things I want to say to someone I love but the words just don't come. Those moments I feel the division our world is suffering from. There is a veil between myself and the performer, or maybe this just isn't my tribe whatever that means. I don't have the answer except, I feel frustrated. And maybe that is the message, at least for me.
I'm a friend not a fan. How would you rather have me? I heard that one in a discussion I was having about folks who say this: "Ugh I have to go see this band tonight so I can't do the thing I really want to do." Really? You 'have' to? "Yeah well I want to support my friends."
Lying is not support. And they know it unless they are too drunk to smell a lie. Stay home. Show respect for your loved ones and let their fans sort out a good time.
There was a period about 12 years ago when the 'Freak Folk' scare of 2003 took place. I couldn't stand it. All those out of tune folks mumbling about with flowered shirts on. For some reason I took it really personal. And it didn't help that I was surrounded by folks who hated it as well. So I was complaining to my mother about it when she just said basically the same thing Dan said: "You remember going to Quaker church years ago and sitting in the silence for an hour. Someone would stand up and speak if the spirit moved them. You might be one of the few that says 'oh man that's the answer! Thank you! That message was for me!' while the rest are thinking 'jeez I wish this guy would shut up, what a wanker!'" Or the opposite may happen.
A week later I was complaining about the genre to a friend on Mississippi Avenue in Portland when I stopped myself and said out loud: "I don't need to do this ever again! This is the last time I complain about 'freak folk'.
And things got better. And better and continue to.
And I got better at tuning it out, walking out of performances, changing stations, owning my choices and taking care of myself. I got better at expressing love through an honest exit.
JB
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