How the hell do I even begin to write about Friday night and the Arcade Fire show at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley? I have been sitting here starting a sentence, and then erasing it, then sitting a while, then trying again. The problem is, shows like that defy description. How do I tell you, the reader, about my complete and total ascension into some kind of altered state where I could barely contain myself? I was shaking, I was floating, I was screaming. For an hour and a half, I lost myself.
In other words, it was a really, really good show. It was better than a good show; it was one of the best nights of my life.
It’s really weird that I lived in San Francisco for fifteen years and the Bay Area for over twenty and this was the first time that I ever saw a show at the Greek Theatre. I don’t know why – could be that I really just don’t care for Berkeley too much, could be that there was never anyone I really wanted to see there. So Friday, on the way over from the city, I was sort of in the dark about where we’d sit and how it would be. So I sort of took this zen attitude that whatever happened, happened, and that no matter what it would be awesome. Still, I made Colleen get to Berkeley at 6:30 and we were in line before the doors even opened. Once in, I was totally stoked – what a fantastic place to see a show! Way better than the Greek in L.A. All the people in front of us went straight to the pit, while we snagged seats in the very first row of the hard, steep, concrete seats to the left of the stage. I am 100% sure that I was the only one there that had a “Point Loma Pointers” butt cushion. One of my oldest friends, Angie, and her husband were coming to the show so we saved a couple of spots for them and then I went out in search of wine.
Here is one weird thing about the Greek Theatre in Berkeley – or maybe it’s not so weird, since it IS BERKELEY after all. They have cocktails, but they are made with some weird Korean liquor that is only 20% alcohol. Yick. Also, the wine? Yick. But I got two glasses and we tried to drink them. I got about two sips down and then I was like, fuck this and I went out on a search mission. Somewhere in that cool space, I was sure, there was a better glass of wine to be had. Sure enough, I climbed up to the very top of a hill and way in the back there was a little hut selling halfway decent Pinot Noir! For the same price as the swill. Here is another thing I loved about our seats at the Greek – on the wall in front of me, there were two extruding pipes that were perfect cup holders. I don’t think that was the intention, but it worked for me. Thankfully when Angie and Eli came, she knocked over the glass of Bad Wine that I had put there, therefore I did not feel guilty about not drinking a seven dollar glass of swill. It was on the ground, where it belonged. After I had my first cup of Pinot I went back up and got two more and put them in my two pipe-cup-holders. I was good to go.
Meanwhile, the Greek was filling up, but not nearly as fast as I thought it would. I mean, this was a sold out show, didn’t everyone want to get there and get the best possible seat? I guess not. I was really, really happy that I was in the front row looking over the sea of heads. Looking around, I was absolutely sure that this would be the Best Crowd Ever, way better than an L.A. crowd.
The openers, Electralane, were good – four chicks and lots of feedback. I couldn’t sit still though. It’s hard to sit still when you are about to see one of your favorite bands. All the people behind me were having no problem however. I think they were there more to have a picnic then to see a band. Hmmm.
When Arcade Fire finally hit the stage, the pit – which was packed with several thousand people – erupted, and I was instantly on my feet. The band opened with Black Mirror and for the next four songs I was almost could not cope with the emotions that were running through me. After Black Mirror they played Keep the Car Running and No Cars Go, and between each I had to take really deep breaths because I was shaking uncontrollably from adrenalin and some kind of crazy frenzied joy. That band is SO GOOD. I’ve seen them before; I’ve read about their shows a gazillion times; I listen to them at home all the time, and they still managed to virtually lift me up and throw me down over and over. It was crazy.
Regine then sang Haiti, coming out with her signature jerky eighties dance move thing she does, and she just completely annihilated me. She sang the fucking roof off of that song. It was about now that I looked around and I was the ONLY PERSON STANDING UP. No one else was standing up! It was really weird. I made my friends stand up – well, not Colleen because she was a) jetlagged and b) had a cold and c) still came with me despite a and b. All those other people? They were lame.
After Haiti I managed to come down a little and this is good because I think I was at risk of a music induced epilepsy attack or maybe a stroke. The show had a bit of a slow time and when Regine sang “In the Backseat” I decided I hated the rest of the audience in the stands. They were TALKING. Talking, during that quiet, magical beginning of In the Backseat! What are you doing here, people? I tried hard to tune out the voices and listen only to Regina’s plaintive wail, and I felt connected to her when she raised her voice higher and higher until the assholes could not be heard. My tenuous connection to reality was kept from breaking by the guy behind me asking his friends if they wanted more cherries. They brought me back to earth, the fuckers. For a while, anyway.
The band played on; they were everything everyone has ever said about their live show. Energetic, enigmatic, and incredibly talented. Still, I was the only one standing (except for Eli and Angie, and everyone in the pit) until about 3/4 through the show, when they played Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) and I looked back and there was a little pocket of people behind me standing up and dancing. I am still unsure how it is even possible to sit down during a show like that. I was practically making an indent in the concrete with my heels. Everyone in the pit made up for the slackers in the seats – they were dancing, surging towards the front, screaming (as we all were, I think) the lyrics; and when the whoo hoo whoo hoo woohoo part of Tunnels kicked in, I do believe all the Arcade Fire fans at that show went absolutely ballistic. It was, is, a moment that I will never forget.
They ended the set with a brutally awesome Rebellion (Lies) and I think I finally blew my voice out on this one because I was screaming so loud. I am almost crying now, thinking about it; the thousands of people jumping up and down in the pit, the band playing their hearts out, and the heavy mist falling on my flushed face. It was time for the come-down, and going this high there was bound to be a brutal one.
The encore: Cold Wind, a beautiful and slow song and then Wake Up, and I was very sad because I knew it was over. I wish every night could be like that. I really do.
I’m so lucky though. Yesterday I woke up feeling like I was coming off a drug trip and my body was sore from jumping up and down on a concrete slab, but I got to hang out with Colleen and my friends Sue and David, on a lovely Saturday afternoon. And now I am with my sister-in-law Carrie and my nephew Ryan. I have a bit of a sunburn and a wine buzz. And I had the great fortune to be a part of Arcade Fire’s audience on one almost perfect night. I am the luckiest person in the world.
which I basically have been playing non-stop because I’m too disinterested to take anything out of it’s case), unexcited about work, life, etc. Something has been missing; a spark, an obsession, also (and this is really starting to get to me a little here at the beach) the sun.
