widespread part deux

so, just got back from the widespread panic show down in loveland--or at least, from the parking lot prior to the widespread show down in loveland. i had a deadline and honestly didn't care all that much about seeing the band. i wrote the whole story from the angle of the parking lot camaraderie and sort of asking people what they were doing there--in some cases to see a band they had already seen play live fifty times or more.

and i met some really sweet people down there, people you could just walk up to and start a conversation with, no problem. very open and friendly people, for the most part. there were a couple of meatheads there, already too drunk hours before the show started, but that's to be expected anytime there is a gathering of more than ten people. idiots make up anywhere from 35 to 75 percent of the general population, based on my ongoing informal survey. add alcohol and that number can be even greater.

but back to the show: i mean, i get it guys. they're good. they write fun, happy songs that make you feel good. and i understand obsessiveness, believe me. i can latch onto something and overdo the hell out of it. (see: substances, all; sex, any; masturbation; alcohol)

but i can't think of any band i would go see fifty times. not one.

and, anyway, to this outside observer this is something different than the accumulation of raw numbers, or achieving volume--or even hearing every possible permutation of the band's catalog. this isn't even about having some compulsive need to hear this band play live, yet again. this isn't addiction to their music. hell, i would go so far as to say that it isn't even really about the music at all.

it seems to me that it's more about belonging to some tribe, feeling at home among a group of, as i said, very kind-hearted people--but it's still just a need to belong. it's a need to feel like a part of something bigger than oneself, even if it is a parking lot and a concert hall that will be empty again in a few hours.

i guess you can see similar concepts playing themselves out at punk shows or indie-rock shows or whatever other kind of show -- we all wear uniforms of a sort. but this is still different. it's a fanaticism that weirdly jumps from band to band over the years, as if utter devotion were something that was interchangeable, depending on if a band is still active or not. like you could unscrew that devotion as if it were a fuse when the Dead call it quits, and simply plug it into Phish. next up: widespread panic.

if there were an antichrist, all he would have to do is start a popular jam band. he'd instantly have a dread-locked army of slavishly devoted acolytes ready to do his bidding.

of course, it might be hard to get them motivated...

--kjb