Sheltering in Place

[Greg]

I think Rob Sheffield over at Rolling Stone Was channeling his inner DM when he wrote this article about missing live music.

Life without Live. For the full article

Every night I dream about going out to hear music. The bands in my sleep are terrible, but I’m always sorry when I wake up and it’s over. The other night I dreamed I stood in a Brooklyn basement watching a god-awful punk band called “Bestie.” The singer pogo’d on the floor and read the words off her phone. Actual lyric: “Fetchin Bones sang [i]Cabin Flounder[/i]/Wish I lost her but I found her/Now I want a quarter pounder.” How humiliating to think that this is the best my unconscious brain can conjure up. But I still missed that music when the morning came.

When you’re a passionate music fan in a pandemic, you look for consolation in the songs you love. As always, music is the shelter from the storm. But music is also the storm. The songs you love might promise you a safe refuge, a little peace of mind. But you already know the songs are going to mess you up, ravage your heart, remind you of faces you miss and loud times you’re not having and weird places you’d rather be. Living with music these days can be total agony. Living without it? Merely impossible.