Or: Put Down Your Freakin' Phones!
As a longtime fan of both the bands Genesis and The Police, I have been eagerly seeking any available nuggets of information and anecdotes about the co-headlining tour of those band's respective former front-men, Peter Gabriel and Sting. From everything that I was able to glean from press releases and social media, this was not merely to be an instance of two well known artists doing supporting sets for each other in order to further increase their drawing power; This was to be a unique collaboration in which they would be sharing the stage, adding their voices (literally) to each other's songs in a celebration of each others' catalogs.
Now this sounds like it could be either a revelation or
merely a novelty.
Fortunately, reports have been promising. In a Columbus Dispatch review of the first concert last night at the Nationwide Arena in that city, Curtis Schieber, wrote that, in spite of the fact that there were some kinks to work out, the show was "a memorable combination of major talents, a marriage made of uncommon respect and enthusiasm."
Schieber noted that one of the evening's highlights was
when Sting began his performance of the Police classic, "Message in a
Bottle," by singing the opening lines of Genesis' "Dancing with the
Moonlit Knight:"
"Can you tell me where my country lies?"
Said the unifaun to his true love's eyes
"It lies with me", cried the Queen of Maybe
For her merchandise, he traded in his prize
"Paper late", cried a voice in the crowd
"Old man dies" the note he left was signed 'Old Father Thames'
It seems he's drowned
Selling England by the pound
Schieber writes that the "magical imagery and hook
line" added to the performance “Message in a Bottle, "broadening the
song’s personal loneliness into a plea for international sanity."
I really wanted to hear this.
Doing so ended up virtually being easier done than said.
A link to a video made by a member of the audience appeared in my Facebook
feed. I clicked on the link, and even with the relatively poor, distant video
and audio, I found myself getting chills from Sting's voice, singing these
familiar lyrics but enriching them with a different sound and different
intentions. Scheiber was right, I could feel the words hovering still after
Sting began playing "Message in a Bottle."
I don't know who uploaded the video, so I can't speak to
what his or her motives were, but it has become all too common to see a large
percentage of a concert audience as being more inclined to view the show
through their camera than experiencing it in the moment. Frankly, it is an
incredibly infuriating phenomenon. Whether they are capturing the show as a
personal memento, for bragging rights, or simply because they don't believe
that an experience is real or valid unless it is captured and placed on social
media, it is irritating to other audience members and disrespectful to the
artists.
I have had numerous concert experiences at which my
enjoyment was considerably compromised due to my view being blocked by a sea of
iPhones raised up, and most of the shows I go to are older bands. I was at a
Who concert where I could barely see the stage because of these people, and we
are talking about an audience that was almost exclusively baby-boomers. I can't
imagine what a concert is like when it
is populated entirely by millennials, who apparently simply know of no other
way to experience a show. (I mean really, why can't they experience a show the
way we used to do it when I was younger? Under the influence of mind altering
drugs.)
Fortunately, apparently, other people are as pissed off
about this as I am.
A recent article in the Washington Post discussed
artists' dissatisfaction with this current state of affairs, and new approaches
to rein in such behaviors. Of course, these approaches involve a product, a
lock-able neoprene pouch created by a company called Yondr, which concertgoers
would be compelled to use. The pouch allows them to carry their phones, but not
allow them to access them unless the pouch is unlocked by the doorman outside
of the venue. These have been adopted by a number of artists from musicians Alicia
Keys and Guns and Roses to comics Dave Chappelle and Louis C.K. Personally, I
think it's a great idea, but at the same time, I believe it only deals with the
symptom, and not the disease, namely the narcissistic sense of entitlement
which allows a person to use their toys to declare: "Look at me! Look
where I am! And fuck everyone who gets in the way of me saying 'look me and
look where I am!'" This is vanity, not fandom.
For example, one kid, a 24 year old named Gerard Little (The Washington Post didn't feel
the need to protect his identity, so why should I?) said: “In this day and age,
my phone is how I keep my memory... Chris Brown. Jason Derulo. I have their
footage on my phone. If you don’t want your music heard, then don’t perform
it.”
(Aside to Gerard:) Now, I don't know you Gerard, but if your
true feelings are expressed in these statements, I would have to say that you
are a little asshole admitting that your brain is shrinking too much to
actually store a real experience. Also, you have no respect for artists and
their ability to decide how to release their work. Lastly, since you apparently
go to Chris Brown shows, you support beating the shit out of women. You are the
poster child for shitty millennials. (Aside over.)
But I know that it is too much to ask.
"But Roger," you may say, "don't you think
you're being a hypocrite? You used to collect bootlegs. What's the difference
between the tapers of yesteryear (and today) and people capturing the show on
their phones? In fact, aren't the people capturing the shows on their phones
better than the bootleggers who attempt to profit off of other people's
material? And surely a phone in the air is better than a couple of microphones
on poles?"
Those are good questions, and for which I think I have
good answers.
1. Tapers were about capturing the music. Was there
vanity involved? Yes, but it was about pride in getting the best gear and
getting the best recording. They got far better results with their equipment,
and it was mean to be good enough to be enjoyed by others. They were about
capturing the music, not some "I was there" postcard.
2. Contrary to popular belief, bootleggers did not get
rich. In the days of actual manufacturing of bootleg albums, there was so much
risk, so much potential lost product, and so little actual profit, that it was
stupid for anyone to get into the business unless they actually cared about
getting deeper into the music than the regular commercial recordings offered. Furthermore,
people who bought bootleg recordings did so in addition to commercial releases,
hardly ever as an alternative to them. (For more on this, check out Clinton
Heylin's book, Bootleg! The Rise and Fall of the Secret Recording Industry.)
3. Microphones on poles are only to be found in
designated "tapers' sections" by bands that encourage it. These
sections were frequently found at Grateful Dead shows and still are found at
shows by the legions of "jam bands" they inspired. In the past, at shows
by "non-taper friendly" bands, tapers were forced to come up with
other "stealth" methods including microphones hidden in eyeglass
frames, hats, and other ways of getting high quality recording that were not
only unnoticeable by other audience members, but also by security personnel on
the lookout. Was this disrespectful to the bands? Certainly. But in spite of
the fact that they ignored the bands' wishes to not be taped, they never wanted
to undermine the quality of music with a poor recording or to disrupt the show
itself.
I am aware that I am speaking in generalizations, and
there are probably a bunch of tapers out there with shitty gear and worse
etiquette. I also know that I am opening myself to being criticized for trash
talking millennials while trying to defend the behavior of bootleggers, who
were deliberately anti-authoritarian. And you would be right, but I am mature
enough to admit that I know that I am doing so.
I am not even sure where I am going with this anymore. I
guess I just have two points coming out of this. Firstly, I really want to see Sting and Peter Gabriel
when they come to the New York City area. Secondly, the difference between a millennial
with a cell phone and a bootlegger is that bootleggers are more considerate and
discreet.
And bootleggers love music more than they love
themselves.
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