The Murtagh Syndrome

“Familiarise yourself, ‘cause we’re not going anywhere” - WSTR, 2017

I think I spend too much time at concerts. In fact I know I do. That won’t stop me going of course, but my point lies in the fact that with the volume of shows I go to, some of them will be... less enthralling than others. I am at one of such shows right now. It’s not the worst show I’ve been to by any means (that tale is saved for another day) but as I give it more and more thought, I can’t help but rattle off in list form my problems with this show. The main issue is I came solely to see one band: WSTR. An indie-ish pop-punk band who I missed at Reading festival due to scheduling conflicts and watched at Slam-Dunk festival earlier in the year, but don’t feel like I fully got to enjoy. Their debut album was one of my unexpected gems this year and bottom line, I just wanted to see them play.

But I am not at wstr’s concert. I am at a showcase performance - Fresh Blood by Kerrang! - that includes a parade of other bands that I simply don’t know and don’t really care about listening to; nevertheless I feel like I should have made the effort to listen to them beforehand and I should enjoy all their music, like “a good little punk fan”. Also, I am very sober. I don’t really consider the challenge of “Go Sober for October” all that challenging, as I know I don’t need alcohol to enjoy things. But this is a circumstance where everyone’s favourite social lubricant would be of great help, either as a catalyst of some sort of a distraction from being here by myself (another factor to my disengagement with the evening). Not to mention that we’re currently in a small venue that is literally on a side street that feels a little to nightclub-y for me to be totally comfortable in my own skin.

Having said that though, it’s not completely fair of me to blame my disenchantment with the size or cadence of the venue; just ten days earlier I was at this exact location to see Walk The Moon, my absolute favourite live band. A unique and amazing time was had by all and I think that is definitely attributed to the intimacy of the venue. With that, it is highlighted that there are positives about my predicament . First and foremost, I won’t lie to you guys, this show was dog-ear cheap. I don’t even know if that’s an actual phrase, but if it’s not I just coined because that’s the only way to describe how cheap it was. So let’s be honest with ourselves, that’s always an insensitive especially on this student dreamer's lifestyle. Also, it’s always good to keep an open mind at these sorts of things as you never know if you could find a band, or even just a song or two, to be your new obsession. Also, I must say I find it pretty cool to be among among people that see to be like minded. Who knows, I could find a kindred soulmate at this thing (Ok, yes I know that's a longshot; don't laugh out too loud)

So what am I trying to say? I’m not completely sure, to be fully honest, but let’s go with this: recently this lag of lethargy seems to be following me around to a lot of the concerts I go to, and my inability to shake it is starting to worry me. It’s just gone six years since I saw my first live concert and I have considered myself at pro at this lifestyle. But the things I used to deal with seamlessly before - waiting in lines, sitting through support acts, waiting through changeovers, shouting your favourite lyrics along - are now starting to bother me more than I ever had before. Even Reading Festival, a nigh-on religious activity for me now that I have often likened to being “more important to me than Christmas” did not satisfy me in the way I think it needed to.

Even my usual concert habits. Take for example, for a while now I’ve been going to concerts by myself. That’s just my thing, I was finding it hard to engage friends with same enthusiasm and tastes as me and instead of missing out on experiences, I go alone, especially as I enjoy my own company anyway. It got to the point where I stopped asking people and even go to festivals alone now. Even though this gives me freedom, as I have expanded my personal life, I somewhat relish the lonely now. Now, it happens that every now and again some friends will show interest in a live show with me. But even though this defeats the loneliness factor, a new set of insecurities are thrown up. It seems I can’t win.

I’m giving myself some slack and chalking some of this up to my steaming decline in mental health when it come to my anxieties and social paranoia. Even so, it seems to me that essentially, I’ve peaked. My days of going to shows and spending carefree hours at Rock and indie shows are on its death bed. And that makes sense I guess, for these habits I picked up in childhood to fade out as the realities of Adulthood unknowingly creep up on me, like breathing in Carbon Monoxide or something. I still have a problem with it though. If you haven’t guessed, going to live shows is one in a small pool of my very purest pleasures, it’s one of the few things that I know get me true joy. So, as the strangling hands of a stress-laced post adolescence wrap around me, if I begin to forget the essence of this thing that makes me really happy, that implies that they’ll be a lack of joy in my life, right? You'll notice that I asked that as a rhetorical question because I just don’t know the answer and probably never will. But if I do end up finding it, I’ll be sure to let you know.

P.S., WSTR we’re great. You should go check them out. Red, Green or Inbetween out now.