1 post tagged “grumpy old men”

Reader advisory:  Cranky Old Man rant following.

Bob Dylan

I know that the title of this post might be contradictory (certainly Bob Dylan does not believe in audience participation, presumably and correctly letting his songs speak for him), but I gotta ask this question...

What is it with this "mosh pit" thingy at concerts?

I am not used to this, beyond cowering in terror at the sight of such phenomena on tabloid current-affairs shows when they go on about the Youthful Forces of Darkness at events like the Big Day Out and most silverchair concerts.

At the Bob Dylan concert last week, from our side-on-to-stage seats I noticed a throng of people hanging about at the front barrier.  Well, tough luck if we had shelled out big bucks foer front-row seats, I thought.

Whilst travelling home tonight,  I listened to an ABC Radio reporter in Perth talking about some biffo that erupted at the Dylan concert in that city.

The cause of the problem was the mosh pit that developed in the front row at the concert venue.

Apparently the people who had paid large sums of money to get front-row seats were being blocked out by these people who insist on standing about the front rows.

This (apparently - but G-d knows why) is a standard feature of modern concerts.

It is also something that people of (ahem) my years (and older) are, understandably (I believe), not used to - especially at Bob Dylan concerts, which probably, it is fair to say, attracts a concertgoer of a certain vintage and infrequency.  (Ah yes, in with the false teeth, out with the Zimmer frame, up with the hearing aid, and let's boogaloo 'til we puke.)

Why is this?  Why does this happen?  Is the front-of-stage fair game at most concerts?  If so, then maybe they need to tell us when we buy the tickets.

And whilst I'm on my soapbox, what about these people who pay out the money and don't even listen to what's going on?

Two drunken young blokes (in dinner suits no less) at one point sat down behind us in some spare seats and proceeded to talk loudly about everything except what was going on in the concert - the weather, the lousy state of Sydney trains, you name it.

When Pauline exasperatedly asked them to pipe down, they politely and directly declined ("No sorry, we cannot be quiet").

I was at the point of summoning an usher when they abruptly wandered off.  Presumably, the combined effects of the beer (which we could smell) and their short attention spans drove them to do something else, eg walk about.

Oh well, another mug of cocoa and its off to bed I go.