What Makes a Concert Friend

HANNAH WEAVER, BYLINE:

Tonight, I’m about to go to my 100th concert — give or take. But I still remember my first concert more clearly than my first kiss. 

Almost every moment of my childhood was soundtracked by my dad’s iTunes library of about 3,000 songs. While flipping pancakes on the weekend, he would hit shuffle on a chunky old MacBook, filling the house with The Beatles’ trumpets or Neil Young’s harmonica. 

[“Heart of Gold” instrumental]

I never got tired of his music, but I did get curious as to what else was out there. I eagerly tagged along on trips to the library sifting through the CD bins. When my family downloaded Spotify in 2011, I quickly found a new artist to obsess over. Her voice was unlike any other I’d ever heard.

One day in sixth grade, I sat on my bungee chair, staring at the walls I had just painted bright purple. My dad came in and asked, “If you could see any artist in concert, who would it be?” 

“Ellie Goulding,” I replied without hesitation. He pulled out the Seattle Times and pointed to a listing, for a concert date only a few weeks away. 

The Paramount Theater is one of the oldest venues in Seattle. I was in awe of its ornate gold ceiling and our proximity to my idol. Which wasn’t actually that close, but it felt like the best seat in the house. Ellie’s first song echoed through my bones, and again later in my ears as I tried to fall asleep that night. My dad didn’t know any of her songs, but he danced with me anyway. 

MATT WEAVER: I was afraid it was just gonna be a bunch of little girls or whatever and I was gonna

stand out like a sore thumb … but the whole show just had this really happy, positive

energy that just went through everybody and back to her, it seemed like. It just felt so

warm.”

[“Lights” concert clip]

Some say the way to measure a true friend is if they’ll pick you up from the airport. I say the next best measure is if they’ll go to a concert with you, for an artist they don’t know very well. My dad was my first concert friend, but he certainly wasn’t my last. 

When COVID hit, I realized how much I missed being surrounded by thousands of other people, screaming the words along with the singer on stage. Concerts were also an excuse to get off my suburban college campus. When a cross-country teammate asked me if I would see Tame Impala with her at the Hollywood Bowl, I practically frothed at the mouth.

Unlike going to the airport, attending a concert is hardly a burden. But I must admit, over the years, the excitement of concerts dimmed, and the not-so-nice parts began to stick out. Like standing for hours without a bathroom break, getting pushed over in the crowd, or somehow always being stuck behind a group of seven-foot-tall basketball players.

Which is all the more reason why a concert friend is necessary, to offset those parts and remind you later of all the great things you witnessed.

Today, I live 3000 miles away from my dad. But I am roommates with that same college teammate… she’s the epitome of a concert friend. We each buy pairs of tickets without asking the other, so our calendar is packed with a financially irresponsible number of concerts. In October, we saw a band headed by Bono’s son and I barely knew a song. A week later, she joined me to fulfill a childhood dream. At Madison Square Garden, she danced as I sung along to Cyndi Lauper’s “Money Changes Everything.” The tickets were a birthday present from my dad.

["Money Changes Everything" concert clip]