Many, many, many years ago I went to my first rock concert. I grew up in a time when rock was still a repressed art form. Of course, we got hold of the music on vinyl records, but there were few concerts where you could see great artists. We sat up all night to watch concerts on television from German Rockpalast and got to know cities like Essen, Dortmund, Rostock, Freiburg im Breisgau and concert venues like Grugahalle and Westfalenhalle. Across the screen, there was a constantly scrolling text asking us to mind the volume and consider the neighbour, which of course we did not do. There were artists like J. Geils Band, Patti Smith, Johnny Winter, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes, ZZ Top, Ian Hunter featuring one of David Bowie´s spiders from Mars; Mick Ronson, Mink De Ville, Black Uhuru, Van Morrison to name a few of the many we got to know. We grew up with a hunger for Rock, and not least to see the artists live at concerts.
I have attended several concerts with heroes from my youth. Heroes like Patti Smith at least three times, Bryan Ferry, Prince twice, Roger Waters in Berlin, Sydney, London and Oslo, The Ramones, ZZ Top, Meat Loaf who sadly died yesterday, Springsteen probably five times, Steve Harley, Slade, John Lydon aka Johnny Rotten, Van Morrison, Joe Cocker and Kraftwerk and many other favourites that have been added to my playlist over the years.
And so, it has continued. From concert to concert and always thinking that there is always a concert to go to in our time and age. But that was before the plague came along. We are now in the third year without concerts, and I have in a way accepted the idea that the time for cramped concert halls belongs to the past. Will people get used to breathing and shouting in each other’s face again when the plague is finally over?
On Monday, as usual, I sat at home with the newspaper and a cup of coffee, listening to the radio. My favourite band from the neighbourhood was going to release their 19th album and wanted to do it live by playing the whole record at an old cinema from the 30’s a couple of blocks down the street. Due to the plague, there were seats for everyone and only room for a few hundred famished concertgoers. There was great urgency to get tickets! I was lucky and secured two. I felt like I was 17 years old all day yesterday and have probably never looked forward to a concert this much ever! Not even Prince <+)O – God rest his soul.
Everyone wore masks when they arrived at the venerable old cinema. The atmosphere in the room was electric. The audience sat scattered in cohorts, each with a glass of wine or beer. One took courage and shouted; come on! The band finally came on and was obviously also inspired and happy to finally be back on stage again! There were references and nods to old heroes from my youth, and all the songs flowed into each other in some amazing guitar solos. It was a wonderful Thursday. An ordinary Thursday that became very special. A Thursday I almost never thought would come back ever. Everything seemed normal for a few hours. Like eternal days. We sipped beer, wine and nodded to the songs and each other. While the music filled us all and the band constantly nodded to old heroes and songs from a time that has long passed, I sent a little thought to all the young people who had found their way here tonight, and who sat and cheered and enjoyed the music. Many of them were probably so young that A Nod’s As Good As a Wink … to a Blind Horse, without it seeming to detract the joy they had of being at a concert again.
A Nod’s As Good As a Wink … to a Blind Horse by the way is an album from 1971 from the British rock band Faces. It´s well worth a listen!
Billy Bronco is telling you 