A concert is a place where everything is left at the door.
A moment shared between fan and artist, as their favourite songs swirls in the air.
A place where the songs that saved you and protected you for years, are finally worth it. You’ve made it.
To destroy someone’s safe place, and leave uncertainty in its path.
To take an adulthood, a family of a child, a life.
To break the hearts of millions.
To mentally scare more.
A concert is a safe place, we can’t let that be no more.
The fear, the terror. It’s part of their game.
Don’t let them win, let your favourite songs continue to protect you again.
Concerts should be a happy and safe place. A place where we can escape from the problems of everyday life and feel the music do its magic. A place where we can enjoy ourselves, let the music take us to places where we’ve never been before. Concerts are an experience most of us cherish forever. As I said, our happy place.
Our parents shouldn’t be wondering if we’ll get home safe from a show, an event like this shouldn’t happen in the first place but the world is filled with hatred.
I’m in shock, I feel like they attacked my home. Because concerts are my home, my happy place.
When tragedies like this happen it just hits us that no matter what we do, there are some things we don’t have control on. All we can do is spread love and hope for the best.
My heart is aching and my thoughts are with everyone involved in this horrible event.
May love conquer fear and hatred. May love bring our peace back.
Something i noticed in almost every video i’ve seen of Trees live is that when Tyler sings the first chorus, he just sort of looks up, body loose, and lyrics just spilling out so smoothly, rich and full, loud and clear, like singing in the corner of a tiled shower or down and empty tube slide. But at one point, he just stops. stops singing and just stands there, fingers pressing into all of the right keys, head back, lips forming his lyrics, and his eyes—he closes them. Just closes them. Sometimes, he wavers. Sways a little on his feet, bathed in that green light.
I used to wonder a lot about what he’d be thinking, what would go on inside his head, what he’d see when he’d look up, if he sees something when he closes his eyes, if he sees nothing. If that’s what he wants. That song, it can make you feel like there’s nothing. He’s said as much about it. I think a lot about him going out into the forest and screaming out for responses that never come. There is no resolution to the song. No nothing.
But I remember the first time I saw that song live, in person. For myself. Just one person mixed into a mass of people. Human bodies. And that’s something else. There’s something about being there, with everybody else, listening to the first drawn out chords before he speaks. Everyone goes silent, hanging on to every word, bubbling with excitement for the finale, dreading the end of he best night of their living lives, brimming with the hope we all feel in our chests and stomachs that somehow radiates off of a seemingly endless song.
And then I really witnessed it. That spectacle. A man, doused in green light, head back, face tilted skywards. Singing. not singing. Eyes closed. I realized then, I didn’t need to know what he thought, what he saw. There’s something about hearing a lonely without being alone, a hopeless song that radiates hope, that is otherworldly, almost spiritual. Other voices echoing the words they’ve tattooed on their hearts, finding the harmonies that lay beneath the vocal tracks. It was beautiful.
Now I realize, that maybe you can’t help it, closing your eyes, leaning back, and knowing—knowing there is hopelessness and hope, loose endings and The Ends. There’s just something about that song. And I can’t remember if I did or didn’t, (I’d like to think that I did) if I closed my eyes and let the words flow like honey from deep inside my stomach. I don’t understand why or what exactly it is about the song that makes me. But months later, I can’t help but do it now. The chords striking something lost and not quite whole within, head back, lips forming his lyrics, and my eyes—I close them.