Last Thursday I went to a concert. Band name: Hairpin. “They kinda sound like The Strokes,” someone yelled to me from two feet away. Stuff was good. Acoustics were sucky. So was the Wifi.
Question: Why does Wifi matter at an LES rock concert?
Answer: The Steelers played on Thursday Night Football last week.
I have been gaining some weight lately but I was definitely the biggest loser at Hairpin last Thursday, straddling head bobs and hard leans with twice a minute in-pocket refreshing of the Amazon stream. I had the volume muted but you couldn’t have heard Herbie & Al if you held the phone to your ear at full blast.
“This one’s kinda like the Arctic Monkeys, right?” I nod yes and smile. Then I wonder if anyone in London is watching this Steelers game. They probably had better service than me, if they were.
The buffering feels like that death machine in The Princess Bride. So does the Steelers offense. A circle in the middle of the screen, mid-snap on a 3rd and 8. I know shouldn’t watch. I should enjoy this concert with my friends. I know what’s coming. A check down to Jaylen Warren, or a scramble to the barrier, five yards short of the line to gain. I hit the bathroom to confirm my suspicion: The Steelers indeed did punt.
Maybe they’ll kill me tomorrow.
For people who are fans of a band, it probably feels the same way. Many times, pure torture. One time I saw Neil Young at Consol Energy Center and the only song I recognized was “God Save the Queen.” WTF. No “Heart of Gold”, no “Old Man.” I still bought a Harvest t-shirt.
I exit the bathroom and realize all the people wearing Hairpin merch. I know these people within two degrees of separation. This is a group of friends, a small circle, even if they have the buying power to sell out the back room at The Knitting Factory. I don’t think Hairpin’s reached the critical mass necessary to truly disappoint anyone – and to date, to my knowledge, they haven’t. Their singles are tasty; the lyrics are strong. And even in the bar with bad acoustics, I can see why people buy the hats and t-shirts. It’s far from torture. It’s fun.
Maybe there’s low expectations. Maybe if Hairpin had won a Grammy or a Super Bowl I’d be mad about the fact that I couldn’t really hear the guy I know singing the words I like. Maybe expectations ruin everything for everyone.
The line between like and love, when it comes to your team and your friend’s band, is people jumping around and singing the words. Whether it’s The Steeler’s Polka or Keep it Together I’m singing the thing as loud as f#cking possible. When you find something to believe in, no matter how much pain or disappointment it might cause you in a crowded bar bathroom, you should hit it as hard as you can.