By now, you’ve likely heard about and seen the sign posted by Yeah Yeah Yeahs (note: not THE Yeah Yeah Yeahs, just Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but we’ll save that for another week) during their concert at Webster Hall this weekend, which requested fans to “not watch the show through a screen.” It’s a necessary demand, because as anyone who’s been to a concert in the past, oh, seven years knows, oftentimes the glow of a crowd full of iPhones is brighter than the band’s light show. Forgive me for sounding like Old Man Kurp, but to quote YYYs, “PUT THAT SH*T AWAY.”
Here are eight commandments that should be followed at every concert you attend, especially GA shows.
1. Shut the f*ck up.
I’d rather stand next to an orgy of various Boo Boos and Fieris sucking face than a chatty duo who can’t stop talking about their day at work, what they’re going to do after the show, if they think the beer girl is cute, how they popped this pimple on their neck that morning and now it’s infected, anything and everything but the concert itself, really. I honestly don’t understand why people feel so compelled to talk at shows, especially ones held in indoor venues, ESPECIALLY after spending an insane amount of money to be there. I’m sure it says something not particularly flattering about this generation, though maybe it’s always been this way? I have no idea. What do I know is: no one cares about your pet cat. Shut the hell up, and listen to the thing you paid to hear.
2. Tall people don’t necessarily have to be in the back.
As someone who’s over six feet tall, this rule speaks to me. Common etiquette goes: short people should be up front, with the tall folk behind them, so the little guys can see the show, don’t have to crane their necks, etc. This is bullsh*t. If I or any tall person wants to be up front to see Japandroids and have waited in line for four hours to be there, we’re not going to move for someone who arrives 20 minutes before the concert, just because they’re height challenged. GA concerts are a free for all — if you don’t want to worry about standing behind a tall person, get there early. (Though if you ask nicely, sometimes we’ll swap spots with you.)
3. No more “Freebird.”
There are so many OTHER Lynyrd Skynyrd songs to yell out like an asshole instead. HEY JACK WHITE PLAY “POISON WHISKEY.” Haha, but really, you’re neither as clever or ironic as you think you are — let the band chose their own song. Save the Skynyrd for totally-not-racist Brad Paisley concerts.
4. Backpack back home.
Leave your backpack at home, please. Messenger bags and purses, those are fine, but backpacks are cumbersome, and you’re almost guaranteed to be dragged down to the floor from someone behind you grabbing the bag’s straps. This rule is invalid for Kanye West and other people who match their backpack with their outfit.
5. The “slow” song isn’t an excuse to not pay attention.
I get it: a man’s/woman’s gotta pee and/or get a drink (and by drink, I mean snort coke before Barenaked Ladies come out) during a show. The mid-set slow song is the perfect opportunity to do so, but that doesn’t mean it’s an excuse for you to chat with your friends, or call someone on the phone, or generally not pay attention to the show. Do your business, but don’t interfere with anyone else’s.
6. Put down your iPad, or just don’t bring it.
It’s fine to take an occasional picture or two during a concert with your iPhone; we’re not saying you can’t do that. But the same rule doesn’t apply to iPad owners. Do NOT raise those at any point, but if you do, we have a right to chuck whatever beer cup or mushy pretzel we find at you, with no repercussions. Why are you even bringing your iPad to a concert? We get it, you’re an upper middle class white person, you don’t have to make a big deal about it.
7. No farting in the mosh pit.
Seriously, don’t. It stinks, the bad kind of “hot and heavy.”
8. Huh?
WOOOOOOOOOOO? Nooooo. There’s always one “WOOOOOOO” guy or girl near you, and they’re ALWAYS ear-destroyingly awful (they’re so bad, you have to make up words to describe them). The next day, you might not remember what Phoenix sounded like when they played “1901,” but you’ll never forget the sound of the girl who let a long WOOOO when she recognized the first synth vibration of “1901” (which is probably one of three Phoenix songs she knows; it’s the WOOOOOOOOers who only know the hits). Save the WOOOOs for the Beliebers.
What kind of concert pet peeves do you have? Let us know.
