There was once a time when we packed as many concerts in to a week as our endless stamina, free-flowing schedules and limited income would allow. Great music was exploding all around us and we needed to experience it live. Soak it in shoulder-to-shoulder in hot, sweaty clubs that still reek of beer spilled decades ago. But we grow up and the balance shifts. Stamina? Gone. Your schedule? It hasn’t been yours in years. Sure, you’ve got the income to pay for the night out, but you just don’t have the time or patience for the absurdities of a club scene built for fans barely old enough to get in the door.
But the fire still burns. There are still new bands you need to see. You’re still chasing the dragon. So you plan the night. You get a sitter. You clear the next morning knowing that you’ll be out, like, way past 10. And then the real shame settles in. You’re suddenly twice the age of the band on stage. You look like you could be the father of anyone else in the crowd, most of whom assume you’re there because you have some job in the music business or, worse, you’re just someone’s ride. Suddenly you realize that you’re not just uncool, you’re bordering on creepy. What’s a grown-up fan to do? Greg Behrendt has the answer. Hear him out.