The Gigging Gospel

Sat at my desk at work, I can confirm that summer is well and truly here. I know this for three reasons; it is cooler in the office than it is outside, my skin is ultra soft after days of slathering on sun cream and I have just witnessed my first proper thunder storm of the year – and welcomed it. Added to this list are all the other indicators – an increase in ice cream consumption being one of them and a move from indoor activities to outdoor pursuits being another. And I’m not just talking about the walking/running/cycling I was on about last week. I am talking less physically demanding recreation. More specifically, gigs.
Alas, this year I have yet again failed to get my arse in gear and land myself some tickets to a festival somewhere out in the country. But never mind – London has got a plethora of outdoor gigs right on my door step. Last week I spent Thursday afternoon braving the elements in Hyde Park in order to the see the mighty Kings Of Leon. Okay so I got a bit wet (and managed to catch the sun too – only in the UK is this possible in a 12 hour period) but it was well and truly worth it. There was a real festival atmosphere, with plenty of beer and burgers, and no less than four supporting acts. For six and a half hours of live music, I came to the conclusion that it was fifty quid well spent – especially considering one of the acts was Paul Weller, another was White Lies (who also played Glasto) and, out of the other two, only one was a bit on the dodgy side.
However, as usual, there were those in the crowd who, after one too many beers and a little bit of sun, lost the ability to conduct themselves in a manner that was respectful to those around them. Okay, so it is a concert, and we are all there to enjoy ourselves. And yes, it is permitted to dance and jump up and down a bit too. But if you do decide to show your appreciation of the music in this way, surely it is not too much to ask you to try and not jump on top of everyone else in the process? It is possible – I know I have perfected my technique for bopping in crowded places over the years quite successfully.
But that leads me on to my second gripe. You see, I know when I have drunk enough get me happily merry but not so much that I am unable to stand up without support – or to the point where I feel the need to pee into a pint glass and chuck it over the crowd (just plain gross, guys), have to push my way out of the crowd to vomit (not cool) or collapse on my way home (highly undignified). Alas, not everyone has yet to figure this out.
And then there are those who feel the need to moan and groan throughout the entire show. Okay, so I am tall and probably don’t appreciate how annoying it is to be at a gig and not be able to see something. But I don’t see why I should apologise for it either. I imagine there are lots of advantages to being short (being able to fit on buses, buy trousers, not have men stare at your chest all of the time), but gigging is clearly not one of them. So suck it up – and go and stand towards the back where everyone gets a clear view. Harsh, maybe, but that’s life. And, yes, it is annoying when people bump into you all of the time, but for God’s sake, please don’t start pushing back and get into a fight. You’ll only end up pissing everyone off even more.
So, next time you go to a gig, please remember my golden rules. Actually, make that the Gigging Gospel: Show a bit of respect, to yourself and to others. That way everyone can have a jolly good time.
Amen.