The Truth About Concerts

If you already hate me, let me give you another reason to: I've grown to hate concerts.

Yeah, this is fairly controversial, especially for a teenage girl who's surrounded by people constantly asking her whether she's seen the latest announcements for Reading 2016. It's a hard life having an unpopular opinion.

My very first concert was when I was 14 years old. I went to see All Time Low with my friend Louise*. As to slowly immerse myself into the 'concert life', I went on the balcony. As you can imagine, it wasn't the greatest of times. It's a great view, but the vibe doesn't really spread there, and at the end of the day you're just sat there, watching your favourite musician(s) play, knowing that you could have been watching the exact same thing on LiveStream from the comfort of your bedroom. And have saved yourself 35 quid or so.

Onto my second concert: You Me At Six. This time, I was standing, and went with a group of friends. I love the band, and I know all of their songs, singing along to each and every one of them. Seems great, doesn't it? Ahh well I didn't expect to get bloody dehydrated! Just as a bit of Liquid Confidence comes on (Josh baby, I don't need a drink up to convince myself that you're cute), I collapsed onto my friend. As she drags me semi-unconsciously out of the crowd, I'm rushed to the A&E and given something to drink. Obviously, we were unable to get back to our original places, and I got teased for the next fortnight for fainting.

This leads me nicely on to stuff I find annoying about concerts.

1. What to wear. Now, this isn't just a question of a girl's wardrobe dilemma, this is more of a question whether you want to be warm outside, and boiling inside, or freezing outside, and only covered in a light sweat inside. My standard compromise is jeans, t-shirt, and a hoodie - it keeps you warm when standing outside queuing, and when you're inside the hall you're able to take the hoodie off and wrap it around your waist. Also, don't even consider bringing a coat with you. With O2 charging £3 an item, I'd rather freeze, thanks.
2. The support acts. I feel that these are either moderately ok, or they make your ears bleed. For the latter, I do feel bad for them, as it must be awful having to perform for a crowd that don't give a flip about you and are standing there, motionless, on their phones, occasionally shouting out 'next please!'
3. The sweaty tall people. Then again, this is just a problem for a 5 foot 3 hobbit like me (please can all Ringers abstain from shouting at me, yes I know hobbits are meant to be about 3 foot six). Then again, maybe others know the pain. The good thing about being small, is that you can squeeze through people or scream, in your highest pitch and most dramatic voice, 'I'VE LOST MY FRIENDS!!!!! THERE THEY ARE!!!' and point somewhere vaguely towards the front. People will let you pass, 100% guarantee or.. yeah. On the other hand, when you're stuck behind a 6 foot giant (again, yes giants are meant to be between 7-9 foot), it kind of sucks. Especially when you can't see the band/artist because you're stuck behind them and they are right in front of you. It's 2016, can't we invent some system to make all tall people go at the back? 

Okay, rant over. Or, should I say, I can't remember what else I was miffed about because I wrote this a few weeks ago. Oh well. To be honest, I'm starting to prefer the theatre than concert halls. I'm already a tired old granny before my time. This is what adulthood, responsibilities, and coursework deadlines do to you. Don't grow up, it's a trap.