The Power of Live Music

Live music might be one of the most powerful forces we have in this universe or the next. 

Despite the dramatic, almost corny nature of that sentiment, I believe it to be true. There aren’t many things in this world we consider universal, but music (despite presenting as an experience exclusive to those who speak its language) is, at its very core, a connector. A transcendent experience that dismantles barriers to unite us and make us whole. It isn’t exclusive to one kind of person; everyone, no matter what labels you hold or titles you carry, is incapable of holding a piece of music as their own. To do so would be to break the very nature of its being, to constrict this great connector.

Live music takes this power and increases it tenfold. Of course, financial barriers have usurped some people’s access to this experience, but there are no rules beyond that as to who may attend. Live performance is an invitation to experience the very beauty of music as a force of connection, of revelry, and of realization.

For both the artist and the listener, this moment is an end to a chapter. It’s the months, years, and decades of anticipation coming to a close. 

Credit: Pinterest

Earlier this month, I had the chance to close two of the chapters in my book of live music experiences. And seeing them live felt like fulfilling a prophecy. But this chapter didn’t just write itself. The entire experience of a concert is dictated by a series of chances you take to be in the same room as a crowd of strangers who made the very same decisions you did. Not to mention all the chances the artist took to produce their art and to be in that very same room. It’s a beautiful thing to witness- someone living out their dreams of performing to the hearts of those listening. To speak to our greatest troubles, to overcome their own experiences through the comforting release of music. 

You never know what this moment means for the thousands, sometimes tens of thousands of people standing in that room with you. Maybe they are here at the request of their best friend and suddenly find themselves with a new favourite song, or perhaps this moment is the conclusion to years of wanting to see their favourite artist.

Or maybe, if you're anything like me, that moment transported you into a forgotten feeling, a memory of a time that feels like just yesterday and yet so far away at the very same time.

I discovered Role Model through his single “Blind” when I felt like I had the entire world ahead of me. When I thought that nothing could stand in the way of my next chapter. I was eighteen years old - heading to university, halfway across the country. But I wasn’t scared. I was invigorated with the hope of a new life ahead of me. Blind was the epitome of that feeling. It felt like my life was about to change. Like my next chapter was about to begin.

And it did. Just not how I expected it to. I started my next chapter by feeling like I was ready to give up on the book entirely, let alone getting to the next chapter. I got bored with the writing, the plot felt too heavy, and I thought the world would be no different if this book hadn’t been finished. Just when I was ready to put the book down… I heard “Rainbow” by Kasey Musgraves. In a time of utter and complete darkness, this song made me see the colour that shone in me before - and the brightness that would come again. 

Seeing both these songs live was an experience beyond words. I felt those unwritten chapters finally close- the graduated high school senior felt the hope that she once did, and the girl who didn’t believe in her ability to keep going felt an unwavering reminder that there is always light, even in the darkest of places. 

In that moment, I was reminded that even though life feels permanent in moments, it is ever-changing, growing, and blooming before us.

Impermanence is a necessary reminder in moments where life’s burdens feel too heavy to bear. It is the gentle relief that comes after being trapped under a pile of insurmountable pressure- a grief too hard to swallow, a loneliness too bitter to bear, or an anger that sinks into your bones. Impermanence shows up not to make these moments heavier but to welcome in change, as an old and very good friend.

Sometimes we get reminders from the universe, words in the book of our lives that demand we listen. Now, some aren’t always welcoming- there will be moments that you misread, ones that take you down the wrong path or make you feel lost in worlds you once thought comforting.

But then, suddenly, you see the words on the page that shine a little brighter. You start to read the blurry lines as crystal clear outlines of a once rainy sky. 

So next time you’re debating if the concert ticket is worth the money, take the risk. Because you never know what unfinished chapters it might close.