As I went solo, not for the first time, I connected with the music, the crowd, the band, on a whole new level
By: Olivia Wiens
Mt. Joy performing at HISTORY on April 4. (Olivia Wiens/CanCulture)
As the crowd bustles around me, I am at peace. My mind is connected with the strings of the piano, the buzzing of the bass, the rhythm of the snare. My heart beats with the tempo of the drums; they grasp my hand and guide me through every song on the setlist. I’m zoned in on the stage, taking in everything with ease, with no one to distract me and only myself to be concerned with.
The music communicates with me as if I am one of the bandmates. It tells me when to improvise and when to stay true to the melody, when to ease the intensity and when to give it my all. It punches through my chest and crawls into my ears and lifts my feet off the ground. The melody acts as a weighted blanket, comforting me with lyrics I seem to only truly understand in this live setting; it’s almost as if they were written in a foreign language until now.
The crowd, though rowdy and dissonant, is like the floor of an ocean, succumbing to wave after wave of music as it washes over them, cleansing them. For me, to be one with the crowd is to be fully immersed in the energy, allowing it to monopolize every bone and muscle in my body. It intoxicates my bloodstream but heals my every illness. I surrender to the crowd, letting their radiance overtake my mind and redress every thought in my head; it makes the music clearer, somehow.
As all of these elements — the decisive instrumentation, the brilliant lighting, the blended melodies and harmonies, the crowd’s energy — come together as one chaotic unit. And I serendipitously become connected to it all, bound at the hip with the unique experience of attending this concert alone.
Matt Quinn, lead singer and guitarist for Mt. Joy, on stage at HISTORY. (Olivia Wiens/CanCulture)
There’s something ethereal about attending a concert by yourself, surrounded by strangers, each one of you staring up at the common interest that brought you together in the first place. It’s a sense of unspoken community. While you arrived at the venue by yourself, you’re not truly alone; it’s you and the music. Attending alone allows you to hone in on the harmonies, the bass, the intricacies within each song, without any other distractions.
To further support this claim, I made my way to HISTORY in Toronto to attend a concert by alternative-rock band Mt. Joy on April 4. The five band members filled the venue with soulful harmonies, rooted lyrics and chest-pounding arrangements, all existing as a cohesive ensemble to put on a truly life-changing show.
But while I could write about the impact this band has on its listeners, whether recorded or live, for paragraph after paragraph, the attention must now turn to what brought you here in the first place: the experience of going to a concert, or attending any social gathering, alone.
There is an ever-present stigma associated with going to social events like concerts or parties alone. It improperly insinuates that, without at least a plus one, you are a “loner” or you do not have many friends, not acknowledging the fact that going to social events alone offers a different perspective of your surroundings. With no one to distract you from the main event, whether it be a band on stage, a movie on a screen or an exhibit at a museum, you are able to centre your attention on the artistic intricacies before you.
Succumbing to that harmful stigma not only reinforces it in your mind, but restricts you from fully enjoying the artistry that is constantly happening around you. By being present with your surroundings, as well as being present within yourself, you are able to appreciate and acknowledge the beautiful complexities of daily life.
When specifically attending a concert alone, you can effortlessly zone in on the music and zone out of every other hindrance. You become one with the melodies as you direct your focus to the stage. With no side conversations or back-of-the-mind worries to act as distractions, you’re able to place your entire body, mind and soul into what is directly in front of you.
It’s as if an intimate bond forms between you and the music bleeding out of the speakers — each of your five senses are dialled to 11 as every instrument reaches your body. As the chords reverberate throughout the venue, solely focusing on that resonance allows you to move with the crowd as a collective unit.
And if you go to concerts as a vehicle to spend time with your friends and bond with them in an active, electric environment, that is also an effective way to experience the music. Going alone only offers a different perspective that opens your ears to the subtleties of each note played. While diving into the social elements of the actual event is always a great time, making an active effort to experience the same event in a different, often stigmatized and under-explored way creates new experiences and memories that connect you more intensely with the music you already love.
So while going to a concert alone might be daunting, being able to connect with every aspect of it on a truly authentic, individual level will guarantee a euphoric, musical experience that will stay with you for years to come.