At my first gig back after 18 months of lockdowns, I greeted old irritations like a lost lover returning from sea. Ahh, £6 for pint of lager that will haunt my guts tomorrow. How I missed you, being crammed in butt to butt with strangers. Is there any sound sweeter than a pair of mates chatting through every song? No, there is not!
Moreover, I’ve been to shows where the communal sense of awe at live music seems stronger than ever: Alabaster DePlume at Le Guess Who? festival in November, closing the day at 7pm after the Dutch government brought in a surprise Covid curfew and holding the room in the palm of his hand; Self Esteem at Kentish Town Forum in March, nourishing a palpably deep hunger in her faithful; Sparks taking a hilarious and profound victory lap at the Roundhouse last weekend. (Theatre critics have reported a similarly heightened sense of intensity.) In time, though, I’ve also turned up late, talked and texted throughout other post-pandemic gigs. While the novelty of seeing shows again may quickly wear off, some musicians are looking at the return of live music as an opportunity to ask fans to reconsider the gig-going experience and make it anew.
