Wherever the FFFFFFF We Are

As some of you know, I recently went to three Pearl Jam shows: two in Seattle and one in Portland (or at least some place called Ridgefield, which actually isn't in Oregon at all, but that's what they're calling it and I will too).

I was as high as can be on life after the first show in Seattle because of a number of factors. I was in the 20th row, it was the first time I had seen any of Backspacer live, and they are one damn great rock band that gets better with every tour. So I went back to the house we were renting after the show, and Brad directed me to the message board on their website to see what people thought. This was a dangerous move.

I saw very quickly that a lot of "fans" out there like to complain about the crowd. I personally do not care, but apparently that makes or breaks a show for a lot of people. Not caring, I turned the computer off and somehow went to sleep that night.

The next day was show number two. I figured we'd be closer on this night, because I thought most people who only went to one show would go to the first one of the tour. (And as a brief explanation for those of you who don't know, fan club tickets get priority seating based on the fan club number. Basically, the lower the number the closer the seat, besides rows 1, 2, 9, and 10, which are lottery rows.) Imagine my surprise when I got to my seat and not only was it not on the floor, it was in the back corner of the arena.

Oh and by the way, this show was the BEST one I have ever been to. I have been to 32, including a small benefit show in Portland and Pearl Jam's 10th anniversary show which was very special. But night two in Seattle had great energy from the band, and an amazing setlist (which is very important when you've been to as many shows as I have).



But the seating thing was confusing, so afterward I went back to the message board to see if this happened to a lot of people. There were some around us, sure, but I had no idea how widespread the problem was.

As it turns out, not very. But it was a mistake, and the Ten Club more than made it up to me.

But that's not the point of this story. The point comes from the "Portland" show. And the fact that many people on the message boards talked about the crappiness of the crowds in Seattle. I didn't understand why so many people cared.

Remember how I said that the crowd doesn't matter? Not true. I realized that a crowd is a lot like government. The entire crowd represents the federal government, and this is what people usually judge. However, the immediate crowd is like local government, and this is what makes the most actual difference.

Anyway, my local crowd happened to be in the 8th row, the closest I've been besides possibly a show I saw in Dublin in 2000. I was stoked, to say the least. Plus everyone around me seemed really cool. Dan talked to a girl from Buffalo because he had a Rochester shirt on, I saw the couple who traded tickets with Adam and Kira for the second night in Seattle, allowing them to be on the floor for the first time. It was great.

But the two seats in front of me remained vacant until after Ben Harper and the Relentless 7 were done (what fools miss that, by the way?) Right before Pearl Jam came on, the seats were finally occupied by two guys, both taller than me by at least four inches. No matter, though. I could see most of the stage if I looked in between them.

But nine songs in I noticed a problem. The band went in to "Evenflow," which happens to be from their first album. It is still popular amongst casual fans, but I wish they wouldn't play it again for 15 years because I've seen it dozens of times. But the fact of the matter is that I'm still seeing my favorite band, so I enjoy it for what it is worth. Two rows up from me, a group of people we're enjoying it for far more than it was worth. They were freaking out, reveling, headbutting, and swaying with arms around each other. Kind of embarrassing, actually. But I can understand on a level. And as long as people are having a good time and not infringing on my enjoyment, I don't care.

What I did care about was the two big guys in front of me. They instantly starting making fun of that group, swaying, laughing, and so on. Not to their faces, of course. But what was really annoying was that they made a comment to each other many times per song for the rest of the show. Every time that happened, my window to the stage was closed. Obviously, that was very annoying.

What really bothers me, however, is as follows. I started liking Pearl Jam because they were (and are) an emotions-on-the-sleeve kind of band. They felt real. They were certainly not elitist. And when I first listened to them, I was in high school. Anyone who's ever gone to high school knows that virtually everyone gets made fun of, it is very elitist, and the people who remain friends are a select group indeed. Pearl Jam was a group, at my school at least, who represented people who didn't want to be a part of the name-calling and idiocy.

So here I was, at a Pearl Jam show with the best seats I've ever had, completely distracted because the two morons in front of me couldn't stop acting like high schoolers. I was disgusted. And I wondered where their enjoyment of the show was. Was the best part when Ben Harper joined the guys for an awesome version of "Red Mosquito?"



Was it Eddie's duet with Corin Tucker (from Sleater-Kinney) on "Golden State?"



Or was it acting like a couple of jackasses and partially ruining my experience? I would much rather have people act like they've just won the lottery when the popular radio songs come on than make fun of those who do. If you're making fun of people, you have missed the point of the band and you should stop renewing your membership. Let the real fans up front. The ones who get it.

The funny thing was getting on the message boards after the show and seeing all the fans say how great the crowd was, compared to Seattle. Maybe overall, I don't really know. For me, not so much. Thanks a lot, a-holes.