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June 7, 2006
Why Don't You Get How Cool This Is?
Is there anything more disappointing than being the only person in your little social world that’s excited about something? You see I went to a Radiohead concert. My first one. It was…human words cannot describe the greatness. We were in the second row about 3 seats to the right of Thom Yorke (although somehow I ended up half a seat closer, mashed between my husband and a great towering beast of a guy who barely budged aside from the head bobbing) and I freaked out like everyone else and thought my throat would tear out. I could have wept when the first notes struck for "Paranoid Android"…but the concert’s not what I’m here to discuss.
We got the tickets well before the concert, and of course there’s that initial giddiness that fades once you realize you’ll be waiting for weeks. If you’re a Radiohead fan you surely understand how difficult it can be to score a ticket – let alone when it’s in a smaller venue, which it was for us. So the next day I get to work and express my glee to my co-worker who has “heard of them” and she nods and immediately informs me about how she’ll be working (sign language) at the Dave Matthew concert in Fenway Park like it’s the most awesome thing ever. I can’t say I hate the guy - I was never much of a fan, but I expressed a modicum of appreciation of the “coolness” of that and turned away with my soul slightly crushed. Other co-workers attempted interest, but when asked to describe what kind of music they play, I just kind of gave up.
Friends of ours in town were appreciative. It was a relief to give voice to the wonder of the acquired tickets and have people who got it. But even then, they weren’t going and what can you say, really more than “I’m so jealous!” and order another a drink?
Worse than the co-worker moment was the day of experience. I went to church and sang in the choir and as we mingled between services, I was asked of my Sunday plans, and my heart brightened and I nearly yelled “I’m seeing Radiohead at the Bank of America Pavilion!” I got the fake-interest nod. We talked about concerts we went to in college. She had never really been into Radiohead (she like Everclear once upon a time), but allowed me to gush a bit, and then – it hurts to recall – some others tuned in to our conversation, inquired and shrugged. Actually shrugged and the words “I don’t know what you’re talking about” emerged. But…how? Now these are people who leave me in the dust once they start talking composers and classical music. I know the big dogs, of course – and historical inaccuracies be damned, I loved me some Amadeus – but being a classical voice major doesn’t mean you’re musically illiterate in other genres does it? If so that might be the saddest thing ever. Even people only vaguely acquainted with anything rock-like should certainly have heard of Radiohead? They’re inescapable, really! But there it was.
I’m going to go ahead and confess that I felt really cool in a way because of that. I think I like good music, but I’m not always discovering the latest and greatest, and I don’t know nearly as much I should. Or own all the albums that any true music lover should own. But I found myself surrounded by people who didn’t just know less than me…they didn’t know anything. You could argue that I shouldn’t feel smug in the least since they also don’t really care that they don’t know anything. They’re not in the least concerned with the fact that I had second row seats at a concert of one of the Greatest Bands Ever. But they should be. They should understand how cool that is, and since they don’t I can only shake my head and feel superior and cast a bit of my elitist pity their way.
| By heidi | 10:53 AM