These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things

Sparked by a few of the conversations we had while on our recent trip, I have been pondering the evolution of a fan. Specifically, how ones view of a live show changes as you pass by your first few shows, travel through your middle 20 or so and on into the upper 50s.

In the beginning, everything is new. You get really excited when they play your favorite songs. Everything the guys say and do on stage is unique to you even if it's a part of the show they've done twenty or thirty times. You don't know any of the other fans. You don't get the best spot to stand because you don't know where that spot is. (And if you are anything like me and aren't actually familiar with the band before your first show, you spend half the time trying to remember which John is which and just how many of them are actually called Dan.)

By the time you get into the teens and 20s in your shows, you've past all that. Now your still excited that they play your favorite song but you're actually more excited when they play something you haven't heard live yet. You may actually even discover new favorites because the live version is so awesome. You know all the regular bits and while most of them still make you laugh, you probably find some little off-hand comment even more funny. You've probably made a few friends in the crowd by now and recognize a half dozen others from the internet that you've never spoken to. You are getting pretty good at finding the best spot, until they move the stage set-up around on you. And not only can you tell the band apart by now (I hope) but you're starting to get familiar with their personalities and tune into their dynamics. You may even have met one or two of them when you chased them down to sign stuff, depending on how brave you are.

Then eventually you reach a point, probably somewhere in the 30s or 40s, where you realize you have actually gotten tired of some particular song. You rarely hear anything you haven't heard live before anymore but you've grown to love a few things you never thought you would. You can recite some of the jokes by heart but there is always, ALWAYS some new banter to make you laugh. At some point you will look down the stage and realize you know every single person all the way down the row and some of them are your best friends. You can now have extended conversations about the virtues of the left side of the stage versus the right but have come to realize that there is no bad spot as long as you are in front. And by now you have gotten to know the band so well (at least their stage personas anyway) that every show is like a get together with old friends. And you know what? Whether you realize it or not, they probably know you too.

I realize this probably isn't exactly the same for everyone. The process can be greatly accelerated if you are hanging out with people who are already 10 or 15 shows ahead of you, or heck, if you spend a lot of time watching YouTube. We've also been speculating that somewhere out there, there is probably some guy who doesn't use the internet and always stands in back that no one ever notices but he's actually been to about 850 shows since 1982.

My basic point is you notice different things the longer you watch. Early on you're focused on the music and the stage banter and what they are going to play next. By the 45th time you hear Particle Man, you are probably more likely to notice a particular expression that always appears on Linnell's face when he sings a certain line, or the way Danny uses his thumb to play the bass rhythm. It's things like this that will always keep me going back. Because no matter how many times I've heard Particle Man there is always something going on on stage that I haven't noticed before. It's like watching your favorite movie. You can watch it 30 times and still see something you hadn't noticed.

I had a moment in Charlotte, where I suddenly realized that instead of hearing the song as a whole, I was hearing all of the instruments individually in my head. It was like someone had separated out all the tracks for me and I was realizing for the first time that the bass line followed the keyboard part and the drum was on the back beat. I know that is totally not how you are supposed to hear music in a live venue; the whole point is that the instruments are supposed to blend. And I'm sure I was influenced by the amount of time I have spent lately, concentrating too hard on separating tracks in my head to discern different instruments in order to fill in credit pages on TMBW. But it was, oddly, a very zen moment for me.

No really, what is the point of all this rambling, you are wondering?

Well I've been wanting to spark some conversations with top ten lists (or five or seven or twenty, however many you can think of) but I didn't want to start with something so pedestrian as favorite songs or albums or what not. So I am starting with moments. I am narrowing down a show into ten second flashes. The little instants that I anticipate as much as my favorite song. This may sound weird, but seeing these little things again and again is what makes me feel like a capital letter FAN, more than the 48 times I've heard Istanbul.

So here we go, my favorite minute (give or take) of a They Might Be Giants show:

(I should probably note that not all of these things all happen at every show as several of them depend on a specific song being played. Also they aren't really in a particular order.)

11. (Honorable mention since it doesn't happen often) Any time Dan finds something crazy to climb on the play the solo at the end of Fingertips, be it the balcony, the bar or just a giant stack of speakers. I also love watching him try to get down.

10. The moment in Older after Linnell sings "Time" and then launches the confetti canon, when they all freeze and watch the confetti fall before continuing.

9. The false ending on Istanbul where Flans plays while balancing on one foot with the other stuck out at the crowd.

8. The first keyboard riff in Withered Hope. Ba-damp Ba-damp Ba-damp Ba-damp Ba-damp Ba-damp Ba-dump Ba-daaaaamp.

7. The beat of silence in Letterbox.

6. The absolutely crazed look on Marty's face as he "wrecks his best shit" at the end of his drum solo. I scream myself horse every time.

5. Guatelmalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. 'Nough said.

4. Dan's guitar intro to Istanbul. I know this is longer than 10 seconds but I love the whole thing. If I had to narrow it down to 10 seconds I'd pick the last 10 when his hand is moving so fast you can barely see it.

3. Danny's leap in the air on the "I am a real worm" line in Doctor Worm just after the slow part.

2. Linnell jumping up and down during The Guitar, while still playing the keyboard.

1. The music just after "But I am" in Birdhouse before the lyrics pick up again. More headbanging and bouncy than anything else out there.


I can think of about a dozen more but those are the ones I'm going with. Now it's your turn to share. Post comments. Get this discussion started. We've got to do something to keep us busy until the next show :-)