Losing My Concert Virginity

The rite of going to your first concert: a transcending and religious experience.

Here’s to my teenage years, where I was obsessed with all the “indie” bands and blogged about them every day on Tumblr. As I was trying to find myself in high school, I looked to artists for inspiration and used their music as a way of connecting with other girls my age.

Here’s to trying way too hard to be “hipster” — to be part of a minority group who rejected societal norms — whilst making their own societal norms.

I wore thick winged eyeliner every day, thrifted half of my wardrobe, and blasted indie rock bands on my iPod Touch as I walked to class. I felt like a badass and probably looked ridiculous. We all go through that phase.

My coming of age was defined by concerts. Seeing my idols perform live and being able to scream every word to every song they played. It was standing in line for hours outside the venue and the mad stampeding rush to get front row. Waiting even longer for the opening band to come on and get through their set so we could get to the main attraction.

My first concert (apart from the Cheetah Girls who I saw live in 2006 with my mother), was Imagine Dragons in 2012. It was their first album tour , and my best friend and I had bought tickets to see them perform in Maryland.

We made an entire day of it: somehow we had both convinced our parents to let us skip school. My friend’s mom drove us to the venue and dropped us off five hours before the show started. We had never gone to a concert before. So having absolutely no concept of how far in advance was too far, we overshot. By quite a lot.

There were maybe two groups of people waiting next to the venue, so we shuffled up next to them and staked our spot as number three in line. And then the waiting began. This was in the middle of winter, mind you, so after a couple hours we were freezing our asses off.

It felt like we had entered a time warp, we had been standing there for so long. I had never waited so long for something in my life, not at any amusement park. This better be worth it.

I even made my own DIY Imagine Dragons t-shirt that I ironed myself the day before.

When the doors opened I experienced my first concert stampede. Everyone pushed forward as fast as they could. We made a mad dash for the stage.

After we successfully got a spot in the front row and our adrenaline was flowing, we realized that we had just gone from one waiting location to another.

For the crazy fans who really care about being at the very front during a concert, the truth is that most of your experience will be waiting. Sad, but true.

This is why with experience I have evolved dramatically as a concert goer over the past eight years. My high school years were seriously marked by concerts as a major event that required much preparation and planning. I was serious about getting a good spot, beating the crowds no matter how long I had to wait in line or at the front of a packed venue.

God forbid you’re claustrophobic, this is a recipe for disaster.

But the epic concert experience for me during these years was marked by getting a good spot, being able to sing along to all of the songs. It was getting enough but not too many photos, as to properly enjoy the experience. It was staying around until the bands had left for a chance to claim the coveted set list that one lucky fan would get from the stage.

Most important of all was going to school the next day with the black marks on the back of your hands for being underage, which in the school world translated to “I just went to a concert last night and I have these scars to prove it!”

What did this all mean? It was a new world that I had discovered with a few friends and at the time it was extremely exciting. There seemed to be all these unspoken rules that needed to be followed for the ultimate concert experience. Looking back on it, it all seems a little ridiculous.

That Imagine Dragons concert ended up being a crazy fun night. It was just So. Much. Waiting.

And it’s interesting to see how my concert going experiences have changed over the years. I stopped caring about getting front row, or even anywhere close to the front for that matter. I hated the waiting game and felt there were better ways I could spend my time. The experience is so much more than where you are in the crowd.

It’s about the music, being part of something bigger than yourself, a crowd of people that are all enjoying the same music you are. It’s the energy, the feeling, the need to move your body and dance.

Before, concerts were a huge event with big expectations. Over time, they became a fun way to hang out with friends, to de-stress, to let go.

My best concert memory was seeing Léon at the 9:30 club in D.C. last spring. She is one of my favorite artists to date and I listen to her music every day. All I cared about was seeing her, being in the same room that she was playing in. I was back row with my friend, and I had the absolute time of my life.

Going to concerts has always been an intense experience for me, but it is cool to see how my expectations for enjoying myself have evolved dramatically over the years.

If I’m going to see a band I like, I don’t need to worry about making things perfect — I will have a good time. It is a matter of letting go, living in the moment, and letting the music and crowd take you on a ride.