Concert Review
Palace, live music, my iPhone & memory.
This week, I had originally planned to put pen to paper regarding my pessimistic view on ChatGPT, but a solo concert experience to see Palace at Alhambra moved me just enough to inspire a slight adjustment in my editorial calendar.
Though I was not an active concert-goer for most of my teenage and young adult life (up to this point), I’ve recently found that clubbing is not enjoyable because of how unpredictable the music quality can be and that at concerts, you tend to know what you’re getting. A cheap ticket to see Palace became available and I bought it immediately.
I was originally daunted to go to a concert alone, though the ease of purchasing a single ticket confirming with a party of one (1) the evening’s availability was certainly a plus. When I arrived, I stood near a group of other women to make it seem like I was their antisocial friend to any ultra-observant outsiders, and reported any and all observations about the evening to my various group chats.
In front of me, of course, were two couples who were especially (i.e. physically) enamored by each other — more so than the music — though other than their particularly public displays of affection the crowd was quite shy. When the lead singer invited us to sing along, the noise level was that of an elementary school choral group, much less a European concert venue. Considering the band was from the UK and the crowd sang along with a collective French accent, their shyness seemed to have more to do with their ability to sing the correct lyrics.
Despite my initial angst to go alone, the concert was rather perfect as far as concerts go ; the live songs equivalent if not superior to their recorded quality ; space to move around ; next to no iPhones blinding my carefully curated stage-left view. It was as though everyone agreed to either strictly enjoy the moment or capture one to two key videos “for the memories” as I did.
It was a concert that was almost so perfect that I felt rather disappointed it would end, that I would go home, and maybe never see this band live at all, or from this angle, or this close up, ever again.
I did feel an urge to take more videos to listen to later on (yes, I do rewatch the videos I take), to consecrate the unparalleled joy it is to listen to live music in a crowd, especially when for over two years such a concept was simply a memory of a different time.
During the pandemic, Dave Grohl wrote a moving piece for The Atlantic about the disappearance of live concerts and how necessary they were for the human experience : “I have shared my music, my words, my life with the people who come to our shows. And they have shared their voices with me. Without that audience — that screaming, sweating audience — my songs would only be sound.”
Though a Palace concert is much less sweaty and loud than any concert Grohl would be playing at, the sentiment is certainly applicable. Seeing Palace, or any singer or group that I listen to live, feels so special because it is ; a song personified with lights and a crowd swaying correctly and the singer adding a different spin on a familiar line that they’ve never done before and will never do again is an invitation to be a part of something singular and unique. Now that we can film such a thing so easily to keep it “forever,” it’s only normal we would want to.
During the concert, seeing so few people with their phones out was such a relief and a social reminder to keep mine in my pocket, lest I be the screen-addicted fool trying to get the perfect shot. Back to my lingering sadness about the fleeting memory this concert would one day be, I wondered if perhaps it’s best to just accept that something can be perfectly enjoyable in the present, and forgotten the next.
One of the biggest disappointments and joys in life is that we don’t remember all of it, but I can at the very least remember how much I enjoyed this concert without recalling every single detail (I say to reassure myself).