My Year of Live Music

I made New Year's resolutions this year! Two of them! And I've already forgotten what one of them was! 

BUT, I for sure remember the other one: go to more shows (quantifiably, I'm thinking at least one per month, as a bare minimum). 

I used to go to so many shows—it was at least a weekly thing. I mean, there was a time where it was part of my job to go to shows, and it is much easier to do something when you're paid to do it than it is to do something you have to pay to do. But also, there are the kids I have to look after. You can't just go to shows all the time when there are kids you have to look after. And there is also the matter of getting older and being so tired all the time, which might also have something to do with the kids (but who knows; maybe I'd be tired either way). Then there's COVID, which kind of wrecked the music scene for a while there, and, saddest of all, there's the fact that I'm getting to that age where I have a hard time accepting that there are still new bands coming into existence and I can't keep up with the constant onslaught of NEW BANDS TO KNOW ABOUT AND LISTEN TO and I'm tired and I just want to go to shows where I know all the songs, and the bands dress and look and banter the way I'm used to bands dressing and looking and bantering. 

Like, I kind of look forward to being 60, you know? That magical age where all of the bands of your teen and young adult years start playing yearly shows at the Casino Show Lounge and it doesn't cost an arm and a leg and the crowd size is not overwhelming and there are nice plushy seats to sit in when you get tired. I know this is a thing that is going to happen because I have been to these shows; I have seen Nazareth and Honeymoon Suite and George Thorogood, and I have seen the 60-year-olds up at the front dancing and being so thrilled to be there and I have thought, that is absolutely something to look forward to. I'm ready. Death Cab, Jimmy Eat World, come on. And hey! I'm about as far from 60 as I am from 20! So. This is the meantime, I guess. 

And the meantime is what I'm talking about right now. In the meantime, I want to get reacquainted with the music scene as it is, not as what I remember it to be or what I hope it one day will be, but as it is right now. I want to see the local bands and also the touring ones that may deign to stop in Regina, Saskatchewan if, in the first place, they deign to travel north of the American border. I've missed the venues, and the regulars, and the pleasant ringing in my ears the morning after a night out that means I have hurt my long-term hearing just a little bit. A kind of self-destructive souvenir I'll regret in about twenty years.

So! On Saturday, I went to the Mercury with my friend Ashley to see a lineup of acoustic sets by artists who referred to themselves, collectively, as The Disgruntled Poet's Union. It was lovely, and in a little twist of serendipity, John and Debra were there too, and we got to have a completely unplanned little one-year reunion (almost to the day, but not quite) of this meeting in the exact spot where it had originally happened. 

I also appreciated this man who sat in front of us who brought with him a veritable library of books and a milkshake and read through the whole show by the light of his cell phone. Maybe, along with being a 60-year-old who goes to see my old favorite bands at the casino, I will also be a 60-year-old who brings six books to acoustic sets at the Mercury and reads in a booth with a milkshake. 

The future is bright!