I Go to Lots of Shows "By Myself"

Pavement, 2010. The first show I ever attended alone.

You'll Never Walk Alone

I've been going to concerts since I was 14 years old. My first one was in September of 1984, the night before I started high school, for Yes at The Garden State Arts Center in Holmdel.  It was the Trevor Rabin-in-place-of-Steve-Howe 90125 version of Yes, and I went with my friends Bill and Dan. "Owner of a Lonely Heart," "Leave It." I was pretty into that record at the time. Danny and I used to listen to The Yes Album and Fragile incessantly in his room while we played Jumpman on his Commodore 64.

That started a long run of going to shows for me that never really stopped. I didn't really spend any time going to punk or hardcore shows in DIY spaces. Never really paid attention to any local bands. It was always the big bands that I heard on WNEW -- The Who, Eric Clapton, Tom Petty, The Firm (Paul Rodgers, Jimmy Page, Chris Slade, Tony Franklin. At Madison Square Garden.), Dylan and The Dead (horrible), Bruce, Dire Straits, The Kinks, Pink Floyd, Elvis Costello. I usually went with a group. Sometimes I went with just one person. I never went alone.

One day I heard R.E.M.'s Life's Rich Pageant, and the bands I chose to see kind of changed -- R.E.M., Camper Van Beethoven, Billy Bragg, 10,000 Maniacs, They Might Be Giants, The Replacements, Sinead O'Connor, The Cure, Matthew Sweet, U2, The Pogues. I started listening to WHTG instead of WNEW.

In college, my buddies and I started going to this place called the Mondo Cane Blues Bar over on Thompson St. I was heavily into my alternative rock phase at this point, but I still had a soft spot for the blues. There were blues acts that played there regularly. This guy Johnny Allen and his band would do fantastic covers and originals. Blues Traveler, Joan Osborne, and The Spin Doctors were kind of house bands there as well. Before they were famous.

As an adult, I've always gone to more shows than my contemporaries. It's just the way I like to spend my time. Some people garden. Some people play golf. But, basically, if CoolMom couldn't go with me; I didn't go. So, by my standards, I missed a lot of stuff.

Then, in 2009, Pavement announced a reunion tour. Tickets for their Central Park shows went on sale a full year in advance. I snapped up a pair; and, in what may be considered an early, primordial version of this blog, I spent the next 52 or so Fridays posting Pavement or Pavement-related songs to my personal Twitter feed for my 35 followers. #PavementFriday. Remember blip.fm? Is that still a thing?

When you're a grown-ass adult with kids, it's kind of hard to say what you'll be doing on any single evening that's a year away; but it was a midweek show. I didn't think there'd be an issue. Back to School Night 2010. I told CoolMom that we couldn't make it to the school. She decided she had to go but absolved  me of responsibility. I attended my first-ever concert alone. I was 40 years old. It rained. Lightning caused a break in the set. It was wonderful.

A few months later, The Decemberists hit the road in support of The King Is Dead. CoolMom got strep throat. She told me to go, so I went alone. I was sold.

Something about being in a group of like-minded people who enjoy the same things as you do is beautiful. You're absolutely never alone at a show. There are 50, 100, 300, 800, 2000, 20000 people there with you. There was the guy at the Sebadoh show who told me how Lou Barlow's early recordings changed his life. There was the great couple I met at The Feelies show in Hoboken. There were all those kids at FYF who went to see Jonathan Richman without knowing who he was and all ended up dancing by the end.

Plus, the ability to enjoy things the way you want to is liberating. Want to linger over dinner or a beer beforehand? Go ahead. Want to arrive at doors? You can do that. Want to stay through the second encore? Have at it. Want to leave after 20 minutes? You'll get home early.

I became addicted to going to shows "alone." You can see that here and at Speak Into My Good Eye. But, over the last couple of years, a really funny and wonderful thing happened as I went to more and more shows by myself. I made friends. Really good friends. Friends who understood and shared my love of music. Friends who didn't tell me I was nuts for going to so many shows. For the first time -- with the exception of a relatively small existing group -- I got to know people who made me feel like I was at home. Like I was me. I started to feel happy for the first time in a long time. I became a better dad. I, hopefully, became a better husband.

I owe everything that CoolDad Music has become and everything that it's done for me to CoolMom. "You should go. We don't both need to be at Back to School Night." "Sebadoh are in New York. You should go see them." And, through a haze and a veil of sleep at 2AM on a Tuesday, "How was it? Did you have fun? Good."

I never feel alone at shows anymore. There are too many coolpeople at every show with whom I can chat or enjoy a soft drink. If there's something that you're just dying to see, don't miss it because you can't get anyone to go with you. Head out. You won't be sorry. You won't be alone. Hell, I'll probably be there. If we're both lucky, maybe it will be one of those nights when I've got CoolMom with me and I'm showing her off to all of my friends. Those nights are still the best.