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Jessica’s Angry Show Talk

I went to my first concert when I was 17. At that time, you had to be 21 to get into a show, but I forged the necessary documents and I was in. My first show with a fake ID was 7 Seconds and then Jellyfish at the Stone Pony. Sure, I was underage, but there was no other way to see the live music I was into.

Now I’m past the years of legally drinking, and I still go to a great deal of shows, but I hate to go. It used to be if you were underage, you didn’t have a chance of getting it. Now, if you have a dollar in hand, an infant could get in.

Let me give you some examples of my concert experiences. One of the first legal shows I went to was Hole. I was psyched about this show, and got there a short time before Courtney Love would take stage. I walked in and was greeted by a sea of sweaty flannel.

Teenage kids were the majority, and I couldn’t believe they put the drinkers in a fenced-in area. If you wanted to drink, you had to stay in this cage until you were done with your Bud. There was pushing and shoving on the floor in front of the stage, and Hole hadn’t even come on yet.

People were getting knocked down, and perspiration-drenched boys were taking their shirts off and rubbing against everyone. Not to mention the unbearable traffic leaving the show, because of all of the parents coming to pick up their too-young-to-drive kids.

Fast forward to a more current show, I went to the Sub-Pop Showcase at Irving Plaza. The Spinanes were opening for Sunny Day Real Estate. There were teens all over the place that were there only to see Sunny Day. While the Spinanes played, these kids were rude and made it impossible to hear the band and enjoy the show. To make matters worse, some skin-and-bones anorexic girl passed out, causing chaos and the band to stop playing.

I’ve got enough of these horror stories to fill books. From seeing Green Day, where they didn’t serve alcohol due to all of the underage kids, while many unsuspecting adults were getting kicked in the head from crowd surfers, to seeing Tricky, where almost 20 kids came up to me asking for a cigarette, because they weren’t old enough to buy them.

What really shocked me was seeing Alanis Morissette. Teen girls were screaming so loud that I had to cover my ears for fear of losing my hearing. What has happen to these shows, where screaming bothers my ears more then the band’s loud music?

I’ve got a simple solution to all of this. Let me pay half price for my ticket, because I have to put up with a bunch of snot nosed, disrespectful brats. Or, put all teens in a small cage that would hover above the stage, so they can see what’s going on, but not ruin anyone’s concert experience. I would pay double for that. ◼


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