Reykjavík Grapevine - des. 2023, Síða 38

The Reykjavík Grapevine 17/ 23 38
Musings Ready for the Air-
waves Shaka Brah
A helpful guide to concert etiquette
WORDS Charlie Winters
IMAGE Art Bicnick
The pounding baseline echoes
in your chest. You can catch glimps-
es of the stage over the shoulders of
the guy in front of you. You want to
hear the melody, but there’s scream-
ing in your ear. You’d jump to the
beat, but your feet are stuck to the
beer-covered ground. Someone just
threw up on you. This fucking sucks.
Do you love music but hate going
to concerts because of how people
act? Me too.
Concerts are meant to be places
to come together and listen to our
favourite musicians perform their
little hearts out. But most of the
time, you just end up fighting the
urge to kill everyone around you. To
quell this unifying murderous rage,
I shall attempt to remind you of
proper concert etiquette. For when
the beats are pounding and rending
your mortal mind apart, it can be
hard to remember how to act.
I myself, am a seasoned attendee
of both opera and orchestral mu-
sic and, as such, consider myself
among the crème de la crème of
concertgoers. With Airwaves making
such a splash, I’m sure lessons from
my background in classical music
are just what Reykjavík needs to lift
itself out of the gutters.
Firstly, darling, rock, metal, blues,
gnome-core, acid jazz, it really
doesn’t matter – you must dress to
impress not depress. Gentleman,
suit and tie. Ladies, dress, and heels.
Non-binary folks, you’ll sadly have to
navigate your identity and figure out
what “formal” means to you. Now
this may seem a tad bit limiting or
oppressive, but I assure you, there is
nothing more punk than conforming
to age-old arbitrary gender norms.
Additionally, formal attire is quite
practical. It absorbs high amounts
of sweat, gives you the right to send
the dry-cleaning bill to whoever
spills beer on you and further makes
you stand out like a royal thumb.
You’ll be the best-dressed Nord at
the Airwaves fest.
Secondly, dearie, you may be tempt-
ed to join a mosh pit. I too have not
been able to resist the pits formed
during Vivaldi’s concertos, but there
are important things to keep in
mind. Remember that not everyone
consents to the scent. For God’s
sake, take a fucking bath before
you get in the middle of it. And also,
a mosh pit is very different from a
fight pit. We do not go to concerts to
have illegal boxing matches; those
are held behind the big Hagkaup on
Tuesday nights. Also, if someone
falls down, please please pick them
up. Yes, I agree, the weak must die,
but it’s extremely hard on the janitor
the coming day to clean up all the
remains.
Another problem, much to my dis-
may, is the trend on the Tiktoks and
the Instagrams of either handing or
throwing odd artefacts at singers.
This barbaric tradition originated
with the rotten tomato of the Dark
Ages and seems to have grown to
cheese wheels, bras and live ani-
mals. I can assure you that the clout
you will garner by doing this is not
worth the sheer anxiety and dread
that you will fill the performers with.
It’s probably not worth the absolute
beating that the hunky Securitas
guards will throw back at you.
Finally, with Airwaves upon you, you
may not have time to restock on
supplies. Carry water, for it will be
precious when you’re screaming
with the melody. Dress well, for the
beat is hot and the air is cold. And
don’t forget to have fun, for it might
be the last thing you ever do.
2 for 1
Barsnack offer
Sundays-Wednesdays
Happy hour
Every day
From 4-6 pm
jorgensenkitchen.com
Laugavegur 120, Reykjavík
Do you love music but hate
going to concerts because of
how people act? Me too.