My first concert was when I was 5 in Elko, Nevada. My family and I were driving by when I, utterly infatuated with the sound gracing my inexperienced ears, begged for them to stop the car so I could watch. On my dad’s shoulders, I watched the performers—who were, amusingly, hard rock bands of my parent’s era—intently, probably knowing somewhere inside that my obsession for music had just materialized. Long story short, being the inquisitive young 5-year-old I was, my parents snuck me into the concert through an open gate in the back. I later fell asleep on the stands.
Fifteen-ish years later, I’ve been to around 20 shows, which isn’t much for someone majoring in music, but coming from a town in the middle of Wyoming hasn’t allowed for me to indulge in my music addiction much. Since moving to Denver two years ago, a lot has changed. Obviously, Denver is much larger than where I’m from. I’ve also gotten to go to a lot more shows since moving, and I’ve made a habit of going to a show at the start of fall semester of school with my mom. My freshman year it was Ed Sheeran, last fall it was Niall Horan, and even more recently after spring break, my zeal for music was resurrected at P!nk.
The whole experience of going to shows has grown into a sort of craving for me since moving. When I’m sad or stressed or whatever other negative emotion you can think of, I watch videos I’ve taken of the shows I’ve been to and revert to the excitement of a first concert or waiting for a favorite artist that you’ve never seen to take the stage.
Studying music full time, with the amount of work that goes into each of my classes, it’s gotten easy to get burnt out, and I definitely feel those negative emotions intermittently. But for some reason, concerts reignite that biting passion and drive for music, the technicality behind it, and the industry like I had when I was 5 on my dad’s shoulders at my first concert.
Guest columns are written by The Sentry staff to give them the experience of writing an editorial and the platform to share their stories.