Midnight Pub

the best kinda night


Went to a concert today. A rock concert, specifically. I've been doing that lot this last year, which is notable because before that I had a 5-6 year gap in going to any concerts at all, which now feels weird 'cause I definitely missed on some bands I really love in that time period. But I digress. I'm catching up is what I'm saying.

It was a very curious night, I must say. The band is local, big enough to be one of the best in the genre locally, not big enough by a long shot to be well-known abroad. So they're, like, very personal to us.

On one hand, the energy was chaotic, 'cause rock concerts usually are, and these guys in particular are very hyped. But somehow it also managed to be very...solemn? The world and our country in particular are not doing that well, a lot of things are on fire metaphorical and real, and everyone - the musicians themselves most of all - is painfully aware in what times we've gathered. Not to mention that the band spreads a certain type of a message that is vastly supported by an average adequate person, but is currently violently rejected by our government. As it often is with independent rock bands, I think. The good ones are rarely pro-government-bullshit.

The difference is, bands like that are currently being legally banned left and right here, and I think these guys are expecting to be hit with the hammer any day now.

And I respect them immensely, because instead of giving up to that fear and trying to go under the radar, they stopped mid-concert to display the most thoughtful, touching and straightforward anti-war message they could. No warning, no flashiness about it, just a hit straight to the chest. A brave thing.

So, on one hand - the usual chaos and throwing the horns and jumping and slamming (although I don't personally take part in the mosh pit/circle pit, I prefer to stand by the stage 'cause I'm short and I like to see the artists performing), on another - the awareness of being in the middle of scary and difficult times and explicitly deciding to be there for each other in this particular point in time DESPITE that.

On one hand - the joy of having fans gathered, of sharing the art, of seeing familiar faces, feeling the energy and love in the room, on another hand - fear of losing everything at any moment, and doubling down on the principles despite that fear.

Weird, but it feels somewhat heartwarming. We're just a bunch of humans who came together to scream our favorite songs and headbang till our necks hurt and our ears are ringing, yet we're also a bunch of humans who chose to be together in this particular timeline dot in spite of so many fears and worries.

A whole club full of rocker souls, a lot of them in the audience and five of them on the stage, all equally unable to shut up and be 'convenient' (i suppose with the exception of some who just came for the fun and rolled their eyes at everything else, somehow completely missing the point of the lyrics they're listening to, but I'll never fully understand that type of people, really).

We humans are wonderful, stubborn, resilient creatures with an inner fire that can't and won't be snuffed out easily. Whatever happens, whatever it takes, I choose to believe that we will sing through it all and meet again on another concert.

Or, more relevant-ly, on another night at the pub. Thanks for listening, I couldn't sleep with these thoughts, I think I would burst!

Cheers everyone, have a great weekend.


Three cheers for synchronicity, as I read your account of the concert last night while at a casino featuring a band I rather enjoyed. It was a completely different scene from what you described, but the music brought people together nevertheless.