MUSIC'S FIRST KISS

On a muggy, sticky and heavy aired morning in August, my friends and I cruised up and parked our car in a large gravel and sand laden parking lot. We had no tickets but we had a plan and we were intent on making the best of our opportunities. We didn’t follow the crowd to the main gates, but instead made our way into a densely covered thicket of brush and trees of a forest and climbed up a hill. We argued about how we were to pull off this scam. It seemed hopeless once we got to the top of the hill because we could see through the trees that security guards were milling around in yellow shirts on the edge of the tree line at the bottom of the other side. We hung out for a while and various people entered the woods for natural reasons and after a while we noticed an older guy come up the hill towards us. He said hi to me and sparked a joint and asked when we were coming down. We all voiced that we were worried of getting caught but he coughed out a laugh and said to act cool and follow him. He was about 6” 6’ and he knew that nobody would fuck around with us as long as we were with him.

We made our way down the hill and walked into the park like we belonged among the throng of paying customers. To our surprise, a second look was never given and we were psyched. A half an hour later we were 30 yards from the stage and “crackerman” electrified the crowd with its high-octane opening. Energized jumping, mosh pits and crowd surfing ensued through the next hour or so during their set. We had a great time. Stone Temple Pilots charged through numerous songs and Scott Weiland impressed with his charismatic antics and pinpoint vocals. They were flawless and sounded better than they had on their album. That was at a time just after their first album had taken over the country and gripped our young lives. The fact that we were lucky enough to see our favorite band for free was the ultimate for us in those days. And for me, I look back now and remember that day as a personal transcendence towards a higher appreciation for music.

I’ve heard many stories from people at various times through the years about their first concerts. Almost all of them depict a memoir of a large venue. Maybe it was the meadowlands, and maybe they were dragged by an older sister to see a pop band, or even worse they might have gone with their parents to see an act from a past generation. Fortunately, luck gave me four friends and a band we really loved at a small outdoor venue on a great summer day. We had no money or tickets but we found a way because it was all about the music and how it moved you, and it still is today.