It's okay to be a dork about music

So, obviously, I like to count music as one of my "things." Not a tangible thing, obviously, like my sweatshirt or watch. (A note from six days after this was written: what an awful, awful first two sentences. I used "obviously" twice, and feel the need to clarify common vernacular by referencing clothing to prove what a "thing" might be. Jesus. Just Bush League stuff right there.) But in the way that I always like to be in a band, and I always like to be on top of the new stuff that's really good (subjective, yes, I know. I tried to make a mix once of transcendental music that could reach out to anyone. No one liked it). I try not to be a snob about music, I try never to say, "Oh, their earlier stuff was way better," or, "They totally started sucking once they sold out." I was saying things like that once about Jimmy Eat World, about how, "Man, after Clarity they really started sucking," when my friend replied, "Yeah, I like their earlier stuff better, too, but I'm really happy they're getting the recognition they deserve, even if it's for the music I don't like as much." I stopped and thought about that, and realized I didn't even know who they were until years after Clarity came out, and had only be introduced to the early stuff because I had been intrigued by the music I had heard once they "started sucking."

That being said, I still get really excited when I hear something new and fresh that I can share with people; when I first heard The Hold Steady when Separation Sunday came out, I was forcing it on everyone (and, again, I wasn't even on board from the beginning. That was their second album). Old Crow Medicine Show and The Mountain Goats (who I only started listening to a dozen years into their career), I will make you listen to. Overall, I get most excited for the things most of us haven't heard, and then I like to share it.

With one major exception. The most excited I've been for a show in a long, long time is this news. I fucking love R.E.M. I love the stuff they put out on I.R.S. (Perfect Circle? Begin the Begin? Maps and Legends? Fuck and yes), and I love the popular stuff they put out on Warner Brothers (Man on the Moon? Find the River? Country Feedback? You know you love it), and I love the stuff they put out later on Warner Brothers that everyone said blew (Let Me In? Falls to Climb? Me and You? Those AREN'T amazing? Fuck you). I'm that asshole that you're talking about later on, and you say, "Yeah, but what's his deal with R.E.M.? They were cool like fifteen years ago, and even then, no one should have been that adamant about them." That's me.

Last time R.E.M. toured, I was a junior in college. I bought two tickets for the show, one for me and one for my then-girlfriend. Which I proceeded to lose prior to the show. Just, gone. Cause if there's one thing that's smart, it's to lose two $60 tickets. Just brilliant. Did I mention I've applied for PhD programs in Philosophy? It's true.

So I lost the tickets, and my then-girlfriend had something come up anyway, so she couldn't go. I borrowed a car the night of the show, intent on going to an amphitheater show by myself to scalp a ticket. I'm pathetic. Anyway, I get there, and some woman says, "Hey, I got a ticket in Section Eight I'll sell you for $40." Way below face value. Sweet deal. Then another woman comes up and says, "Well, I've got Section One for $50." The Section Eight woman says something along the lines of -- I'm going to stop me here and point out I resisted TWO opportunities to make a Section Eight/crazy joke -- , "Well, I guess you'll want the good seat then," and starts to leave.

Here's where my PhD-caliber mind kicks in. "Hey," I think to myself. "You've already blown over $100 on tickets for this show. You should really take the cheaper one." Not the correct thought process. Not, "Hey, you've already blown over $100 on tickets for the show. You should really just cough up the extra $10 to make it awesome." So I say to them, "I'll take the Section Eight." And it could have been meant in more ways than one!

Fuck. I was so close to getting through that.

As I stood in Section Eight, watching what was admittedly an awesome show that I thoroughly enjoyed, I looked over at Section One, where Michael Stipe was leaning into the crowd and shaking hands with people. I decided then and there that next tour, I was going to ensure that I got the best possible R.E.M. viewing experience, to make up for my stupidity. Hence this tour, where instead of driving up to L.A. from San Diego to see them at the Hollywood Bowl, I will be flying up to Berkeley to see them at the Greek Theatre. Kind of like watching the World Series in a stadium, or on a minor league field. It's just going to be worth it.

It fucking better be, at least.