By Marie Korner, May 29th 2022
Your first or eleventy first show? Guaranteed, you’ve seen at least one of these eighteen gig-goers.
Are you one of them?
Come. Walk the venue with me…
You’re about to pass out. Fifteen mins into the headliner? Such a lightweight. Doesn’t help you’re dressed like Matrix’s Neo with added knitted beanie. Strong look. Thinking you should’ve checked all that leather in at the cloakroom. Face sweat running down the leather into your plastic pint.
Style it out and try to stay cool. Must ask for more ice in drink.
Only the crazy brave stay front and centre (aka the pit). Badass song kicks in like a wave machine warning at a theme park. Hold on, or get out.
You get carried away by the sea of people, from your friends and all that you know – their outstretched hand tries to pull you back. Fingertips miss.
And where the fuck is your shoe?
Three choices – Bass player, singer, guitarist. Choose wisely. You know pit security by name. Similar to a long distance runner, you plan food and drink consumption. Your coat serves as padding from the metal barrier.
Setlists and guitar picks are your prey. The singer’s high five / bit of spit on your arm gratefully received. Barrier coveted by others (also see – ‘Blind’).
Unlike you, they don’t have the stamina or grip strength.
The drum sounds “boom, boom, boom, boom”. Muso’s know a ‘hit’ when they hear it.
Standing in the ‘sweet spot’, dividing your view between sound board and stage. Singer subtly touches his throat and points down. Engineer slides a lever and twiddles a knob or two. You knowingly nod to your band mate.
Don’t be tempted to touch, distract the engineer, or spill your beer on the console.
“Coming through, coming through!” a voice bellows, drowning out the monotonous beeping of the metal detectors. This guy ain’t hiding a thing on the way in.
You do a second take – WTF is hanging out his trouser fly? “Wayheeeey!” This gig-goer loves a laugh. Security flap around the enormous pink flaccid fakery – trying to diffuse the dildo drama.
Weaving and squeezing through people gaps after taking a leak, you opt for the far side route. Less resistance, longer distance. No one about, not even stage lights reach here.
You bump into something, and step backwards into the light. A figure pulls back a black hood. Full black painted face, grinning with sharp, white teeth. Their eyes open to devil-red contacts. “Cool” you say, turning back to people weave with speed to safety.
“Get out before the rush, a seat on the train, and home in time for a whisky before bed” is their motto.
Shoulder riders are those who can’t see in crowds? Not you. Even as a target for liquid filled receptacles – you love the attention. Maybe flashing a bit of bra or nipple to get a cheer.
This one goes out to those who sing the non-words, thinking they’re the lyrics. Defo when the band plays their latest single you haven’t had on repeat.
“you not rrrh rot dot n dot per rot”.
Say what?
The fun gig-goer. Everyone’s a friend, drinks are flowing like Head and Munky’s dreads. You stay the constant ‘happy’.
Where do you get all that energy?
Those ‘PDA’ type couples who take it all the way. Literally. Neo and his leather, perfect to hide behind and ‘do the deed’ right in the middle of the venue – security unable to reach with speed.
Cunning.
Exhausted from camping outside the venue, one hundred and sixty eight hours before the show to get a glimpse of the band (still overseas).
Finally, the tour bus rolls up, you pull a ‘we’re not worthy’ moment, get yourself ejected from the venue as the band members fear for their lives.
First rule of ‘mosh pit’ is: Now is (not) the time to get your Tyler Durden on.
Who doesn’t love a few cheaper beverages across the road before heading to the venue?
Trouble is, you get chatting, drinking, chatting, drinking with the bar staff – you didn’t make it to the show.
What show was it?
Where are your friends?
Anybody?
Acrylic paint, sewing, and sharpies are your love language. Fully knowledgeable that yellow on white is a ‘no’ when crafting declarations to wave at the band. They’ll think you’re hailing security – surrendering the pit.
You’ve landed a good spot. Little window of stage between blonde and black hair. Neck not strained. This is as good as it’s gonna get. Nope. Lost it to a tower. Move a little and repeat. Wishes got there early for a barrier spot. Had too much to drink tho.
“Beep, Beep” goes your group chat alert. It’s Paul. Ahhh, you know what that means. Always the first to know about gigs. How does he do it?
‘Team up! Time to get tickets!
Roadtrip!”
Arms around strangers, best dance moves. Making of fast friends, exchanging numbers, and adding on socials.
That token tune for your last burst of energy (every band has one)
What. A. Night.
What’s your rock show experience?
Share your stories in the comments.
Marie x
PS. Thanks to SetlistFM for KoRn‘s last London show setlist (2017, The Serenity of Suffering Tour).