EVEN MORE REASONS WHY I STILL HATE CONCERTS  

I don't know why I still do it. Maybe it is because I always meet some friends at shows or because I really want to see a band life. Maybe it is because drinking in a smoke-filled room with a band playing beats drinking in a smoke-filled room with the radio playing. Or maybe it has just become a habit I can't break. This series started with the Will Oldham-Show some years ago and continued with Howe Gelb playing some time ago, and because yesterday Tristeza played in Vienna, we need a third part in this ongoing series of: why I hate concerts.

Let me give you a little of the basics of yesterday. Tristeza are a great band and a bunch of nice people. Featuring ex-members of Locust, Unbroken (I think) and Gogogoairheart they do nothing that you'd expect, but rather play nice, low guitar-drenched instrumentals that flow through space and time like a dreamy bubble-bath. It is all warm and cosy and really makes you relax, as their music grooves, ebbs and tides, with compassing pulse. Now, somehow their booker had forgotten that Austria exists (not that I would blame him) but since he left a day off (or for whatever reasons, I don't have the exact details, but I am not a godsaken journalist and this is not the fucken Financial Times here) Constantin of Trost Records managed to organize a concert at the Substance record-store. There is a small concert there about once a month and these are usually free, so no entrance fee. Why, because usually some local band plays there, usually doing something different e.g. an electronic performance, accoustic set, whatever. Could be, he takes no money because he has no legal licence to do so. Tristeza were the first "bigger" band to play there, the first band from the USofA stoppin by during a tour and so Constantin figured he'd put a box there, where people could throw in some money for the band. You see, touring for gas money, food and a place to sleep ain't no fun. But touring without any reward is dangerous.

Anyway, I don't see no problem there. You come, you want to see the band, you see that box, read the label, throw in some coins, see the band play. You get of easy, because coins make more noise than paper, and you seem to be generous if you just emptied all your wee small change. Anyway, no problem. Well, somehow there seemed to be a problem. People full-heartedly ignored that box. It was a big box. It said "money for the band. thank you". It looked good. No, the box is not to blame. These people are. I want to apologize beforehand to all those good folks who gave some money before the show started by themselves. You are great people and you are not who I am talking about here. But I am sorry to say, you are a minority. The other people are who I am talking about here. As soon as the band started to play, it got really crowded in that record store. If somebody had organized a concert with, say, 8 Euros entry, he would have been satisfied by now. Constanin wasn't satisified. He was selling a lot of beer, even some records, but he worried about the money for the band. After the band had played for about an hour or so he mentioned something in that direction to me. So I made myself CFO of the evening and took the matter, ie. the box, in the well-proven hands of "CRACKED Financial Punk-Management" and did a little round through the room. Funny thing, people who had ignored the box before, readily pulled out their purses and gave some. You could have done so by yourself, mates, but hey, at least you gave some. 

Because I couldn't get to most people, since the room was so crowded, and Constantin provided me with a steady input of Gin & Tonics, I positioned myself near the exit and waited for people there. It all went really well, people gave some money when asked for, cool. Then the show ended and people started to show themselves from their best side. Some straight dude with long hair tried to sneak by me. I asked him for money for the band. He said, "they don't deserve it." Huh? Took you 90 minutes to figure out, you didn't like the show? Then came a full crowd of greedy college-kids in fashionable clothes, who didn't even look at me when trying to get by me, ignoring my persistent questions. I don't plead with people. I told them that they just had seen a good band play a full show, they could just hand over some coins. I mean, a single euro isn't much to ask for, you can spare a euro?

"No."

You know the sound a cat makes, when it is sick. That little, whiney meouw-like sound. Sounded just like that. Another girl, wearing cool colored glasses and a studded belt, you know that post-materialistic H&M-chic of the new fashionable college-sort, said: "I have no money." Yeah, sure. You drink, you go shopping, you smoke, you do drugs, but not a single euro for the band. Who goes out on a friday night without any money in their pockets? Could only be sneaky, greedy little college-chicks who try to get by on other people's money. First mummy's and daddy's, then their boyfriend's money, then anybody's money. You know where that leads to? Right, prostitution. Go ahead, little fräulein, wallow in your self-pity. Sure, there was just a small bunch of people who didn't give anything at all. But herewith I declare them dumbfucks and greedy bastards of the evening. Don't ever come again. Most people gave when they were asked for, which is okay, I guess. Some were right generous, and people who bought some CDs or t-shirts from the band didn't get bothered by me. (Though some came to my box on their own, which can be an example for all of us. One guy, who had only heard the band from outside the store where he had been talking to his friends, even came in to give some. Respect, dude!)

Some time later I got the impression that I had already asked everyone left in the room twice. Moreover, I was getting a wee bit drunk from all that Gin & Tonic (mixed 1:1), so I called it a day. I'd like to think, that I gave those greedy bastards at least some bad conscience about their behaviour, but I doubt it. I guess, they will justify themselves by saying "well, it was a free concert, wasn't it?" or "some other people have paid already, so they don't have to bother me" or "why should I pay, if I don't have to". Well, you gonna meet the real world sooner or later. You are going to have to divide your money into food, rent and electricity and so on (and not into clothes, records and drugs as today) and then maybe you'll know. One or two Euros doesn't hurt you, but no money for the band does hurt the band.

All in all, though, it was a rather nice evening. Mainly due to the friends I met and that I positioned myself behind the counter, where there was a little more room. Gepi presented me with the new CD by MAR (haven't heard it yet, but he says "cool hardcore with metal lyrics", and he is usually right) so thanks a lot. Respect to the guy who bought three CDs by Johnny Cash. You made your life a better place. Also to Constantin's mum for the snacks (did she ask for money? I doubt it.) and of course to Tristeza, who took this adventerous show on them without hesitation or arguing about money at all. Maybe that is the problem. Nobody dares to ask for money. Even if you have done a job well, you don't want to ask for money as a reward for that job. Stop that. Even in the most fantastic anarchist utopia you exchange the results of your work with the results of other people's work. Money is just a medium with the advantage that its worth is linearily comparable. It is the way people treat money that makes it so akward. People are to blame.