MUSIC AS IT TRAVELS
As I’m writing this, I’m sitting outside a small bar in Amsterdam. There’s accents surrounding me, like various music genres; heavy, indie, alternative and classical. Music is one of those things in life that, although each country does differently, will always be done fluidly in every country. Whether you're in a small bar like I am now or a venue the size of a small city, music always prevails.
One thing I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing since being a young(er) adult is getting to experience the culture of music and how it varies in each country, challenging what I’m accustomed to. Getting to see the “scene” in different places and the variation between what instruments they’ll choose or what music they’re playing. Whether they speak the same language we do (either metaphorically or literally), or whether they speak of their experiences the way that we tend to do. Do their hardships relate to us? Does the way they live translate to how ours does? It’s something I’ve come to enjoy trying to find out.
I’ve seen various bands, personal and local to myself and not, in many different places now. Belfast, London, Dublin, Cork, Amsterdam, Manchester and Liverpool, to name a few. And not one gig had the same experience, as a member of the crowd and also as an onlooker to how the bands themselves function.
As someone who regularly attends events with music, the culture and personal interaction behind them are something that very much interests me. The people who go, what has brought them there, the music they’re seeing and why are all parts of why an audience captivates me.
London has the feeling of a 90s DJ set. No matter what gig you see, the pub is always packed, and the people in it are like a movie in themselves. They talk with whimsy and esoteric energy, listening to the gig the same way they would to a song being played in a bar. They listen, and they dance like it’s a soundtrack to their own night out, like the lyrics of the songs they’re singing along to and music that makes their feet move are deciphering the next steps or direction of their never-ending night.
Manchester has that undeniable lemon touch. They listen to gigs like they watch films. They listen and pick up on the direction or director, the actors as they play their parts, and they engage in a captivating awe. They go to gigs the same way they would films, picking out sounds and images they like and placing them together in a puzzle that connects to an art piece in their mind. They dance with a subconscious groove, which is one I’ve always felt a pleasure to join in on.
Liverpool is something I’ve experienced too little. A city that feels close to home, not because of its distance but because of its people. There’s a distinctive electricity to live music in Liverpool. The audience has a fizzling readiness before the first amp has been turned on, and that is an energy that is contagious. The ceilings shrink, making the venues feel tight and warm, and their people embrace music like an old friend. Whether it’s their first time seeing a band or their hundredth, their energy never dissipates. They dance and sing like souls possessed, and when the last drink has been served, they find somewhere to serve one more to marinate the music they just saw.
There’s something strikingly Irish about seeing a gig in Dublin. Standing on sticky floors in an unfamiliar home feels strangely comforting. The engaged stares of a crowd vary between venues, but the sway of their homely nods never does. Dublin feels cool to me. It feels like a friend's older sibling who, at a younger age, feels like meeting a celebrity. Like the coolest version of yourself you could be. It’s close enough to home to enjoy the banter of the people, but the importance they put on their live scene prevails beyond the last laugh. Dublin organises events that are artist first, placing bands at the forefront of their noise.
Belfast is a place I will never not hold deep within my heart. It’s a familiar face that could leave for years and still hold itself like someone I saw yesterday. The bands that play, the venues they're in, and the people they attract are a family I’ll never share blood with, but what I will always share with them are memories, a safe place, and determination. The desire that is felt to make sure “our wee city” succeeds. The frustrating push of wanting everyone within our scene to do well. The friendships and chosen family that have fallen at our doorsteps and nights with each other of belting lyrics too loud and sharing drinks too strong will always hold a core part of my soul. Belfast and its music have always been what we make of it, and as someone who has had the pleasure of experiencing it from the background, foreground and the liminal space in between, I derive pleasure from saying that we make it a place worth fighting for.
Music is made by people and has always and will always be. By the artist, their friends, their family, their sound guy and comrades. I will never not enjoy going to different places in our world and discovering what there is to offer because that offer won’t ever be the same twice, so go find those offers yourself.