Concerts: New York or Nowhere
My first concert occurred when I was at the young age of 3 with my mother and my step-father at a local county fair in the middle of nowhere. It was a local band from the Greater Pittsburgh area and I don’t remember more than a millisecond of the evening’s events. Since that moment, I have seen upwards of 35 concerts ranging from artists like Billy Joel and Stevie Nicks to the fan-girl favorites, One Direction and the Jonas Brothers.
*In a dramatic, Broadway voice* I have seen it allllllll dahhhling.
Or so I thought. I’m not going to write about how “perfect” New York City is and how there’s never any issues within the city, but I am going to write about how there is, regardless of its flaws, magic in this city. Concerts, if you’re into music like I am, are always a transcendental and spiritual experience. But up until I moved to New York, I had no idea how drastically important location could be to your overall experience.
Now, I’m not saying that if the concert isn’t in New York, it’s a bad experience. I’m saying that from my personal experience, the concerts I’ve experienced in New York have felt 20x more magical than any concert I’ve seen within Pennsylvania’s borders. Growing up in Pittsburgh, I have seen a majority of my concerts within the walls of Consol Energy Center (now PPG Paints Arena). Pittsburgh goes to sleep at around 10pm. So you can imagine what it feels like to be hyped up after jamming to Halsey or Justin Bieber or Stevie Nicks to a quiet, mundane city to get back into your car, go home and go to sleep. It’s a routine, it’s integrating a magical evening into your normal routine. I had a similar experience seeing James Bay at Brooklyn Steel, emerging from a very quiet suburban Brooklyn neighborhood and soaking in the mundanity as I raced back to Manhattan. Artists look at New York City like the sacred land of performing; if they can book the damn city, they’ve succeeded. Madison Square Garden is not the only famous venue this city holds — Webster Hall, the Bowery, Terminal 5, Radio City Music Hall and even smaller joints like Cafe Wha? in Greenwich Village hold extreme weight in the New York City music industry.
The conclusion I have come to is this: the artists put such significance on the fact that they’re performing in New York City, that the special-ness of that moment for them permeates the audience, thus making it an even bigger deal to them as well. Just a few weeks ago, I bought a ticket to Ben Platt’s sold out show at Radio City Music Hall on impulse (can you blame me, though?). The pure joy that radiated from him during his performance and his continual gushing about his dream come true: playing his own discography at Radio City Music Hall. Of everything this man has accomplished (my Dear Evan Hansen fans, whaddup), he was tearing up on stage because of how important and grandiose this moment was to him. Sitting on the first mezzanine, I thought, “You know what? This is special to me, too.” It is so special to accompany an artist in those moments that they’ll never forget; the cultural weight of performing in New York makes it a memory for you and for them. Two nights after Ben Platt, NYU alum Maggie Rogers also performed at Radio City Music Hall, delivering an emotional and heartfelt performance that left everyone in awe. As a former NYU student, who performed at Radio City at her graduation, you can imagine the importance of this formal performance to sold out crowds.
New York concerts also tend to receive a bit more special treatment. I’ll try to write this as eloquently as possible and make my bitterness seem constructive, but it’s hard. I am a HUGE John Mayer fan, which is ironic considering when I was younger and my mom put him on the radio I’d cry, but I look at that now as foreshadowing. On his most recent tour, which took place over this past summer (when I was in Pittsburgh), he did something he had never done before at Madison Square Garden and Madison Square Garden, only. He played Continuum the whole way through. *Deep inhale.* His Instagram caption for the evening read, “We did something I’ve wanted to do for a few years now: play Continuum in its entirety. It proved to be the perfect time and place to do it. These past two nights have been profound. Thank you NYC.” If you are wondering, the key words are PERFECT and PLACE. No other city was blessed with such a setlist as New York was that night, and that proves my point even further. New York receives special treatment, because metaphorically, New York is the Spotify of music. Everyone and their mother wants a chance to play it and with that time they have doing so, they’ll make it as special as possible so it’s as engraved as their presence is.
The name “Madison Square Garden” carries massive weight. It’s the most famous arena in the world and this is a fact I think you’re born knowing. I was obsessed with One Direction (still am, but we don’t talk about it) and when Harry Styles came to MSG two nights in a row, you can probably assume I was there both nights. Correct. After seeing One Direction in a stadium setting and an arena setting in Pittsburgh, it was interesting and different to see one of them play the most sought after performance venue. It was magical. When you grow up with an artist, you want to see them play the big guys. You want them to be up there amongst the legends. That’s what concerts in New York are: legendary.
My first Madison Square Garden concert was Billy Joel and it was also his fiftieth time playing Madison Square Garden throughout his career. Words will do little justice, but I’ll give it a shot. Billy Joel has a residency at MSG that he vowed to keep up until he doesn’t sell it out anymore. I certainly hope he’s okay with playing for the next thirty years then. Anyways, as a Long Island native, Joel thought New York was evidently worthy of his legendary presence once a month. He picked it for a reason and we all go for that same reason. My aunt always says, “I need to come to New York to see Billy Joel.” They’re a package deal, like most people feel in relation to this city that refuses to ever separate.
There’s also something about walking into the bustling business of Manhattan after hanging out with a crowd of people you don’t know, listening to music you all love and hold dear to your heart. To step into the honking horns, the bright lights, the street food carts. Concerts in New York are almost like a reminder: This is your reality. What happened in there was just a brief exit from it, but you’re still here. You can still come back here. The moment is fleeting, but New York is forever, and the memories of New York are as concrete as it is. I just cringed looking at how cliche that was, but I stand by it. Cliches get a free pass here, solely because I am deeply enamored by this city.
Oh, I am so very wistful. Every New York concert I have ever attended holds such a special place in my heart, solely because of the experience and the location. In twenty years, I’ll be able to say the words, “I saw the Jonas Brothers on their comeback tour at MSG, it was electrifying.” Those concerts follow you through time, those feelings and those memories. Maybe I’m sentimental when it comes to concerts and the one-sided relationships I’ve formed with artists. However, I urge you, if you haven’t, to get tickets to a NYC concert for any artist and tell me differently (and if somehow you hear Continuum the whole way through… don’t tell me that part, I’ll be upset).
