johnwinters.org
Trying and doing since 2001
for 28 July 2003.
Not a Fan of the Fans
A week or so ago I went to an
Ani DiFranco concert. It was
the second time that I had seen
"the goddess" but the first time
that I had seen her at a dedicated
show (the previous time had been
at the Bumbershoot music festival).
The scenery was great. The show
was at the Pier(s) 62/63 downtown.
A fantastic view of Elliot Bay
and Bainbridge Island was the backdrop
on one side of the stage and on
the other the various glass towers
of downtown. A little farther
off, the Space Needle. The weather
was perfect. Warm with a slight
breeze but not cool enough where
you needed a coat. Even while
standing in line I noticed that
a majority of the audience was
female. Not at all daunted I
recalled my years as a communications/psychology
major, sitting in 300 seat lecture
halls counting only 20 men. "These
beautiful people are the independent,
thinking women who bypass the
mysoginistic male majority who
dominate the radio waves and dare
to listen to an artist who makes
a bold statement", I thought to
myself. The real eye grabber
for me though were two young men
in their mid-20's who came in
dressed as hipster girls, complete
with studded belts and hair barrets.
In the sea of hippies, squares,
gays, dykes, lesbians, and yes,
hipsters, these guys somehow defied
it all by being men dressed as
young, hip, girls. Not classic
queens nor any traditional notion
of gender benders, these guys
somehow poked fun at the whole
system of fashion and cliques.
At least that is my take. The
show opened with "That One Guy".
He was fucking amazing. He had
this weird Magic Pipe thing that
was part cello, part synthesizer,
part theremin, part bong. I think
he made it himself. The hippies
danced, the squares bounced, and
the dykes hugged and spoke loudly.
Well received I thought, especially
for an opener. When Ani took
the stage people cheered and Ani
made a statement against the advertising
that was part of the pre-show
anti-smoking announcement. Very
cool I thought. Then Ani swore
a few times and made everybody
happy. Wild cheers went up with
every "fuck, shit, or cunt".
Songs were played and between
them Ani would belt out some poetry
or mumble an anecdote. Often
times though she would mutter
to herself, often ending with
a "whatever" or some string of
unintelligible something that
I could never make out. It is
possible that she was being quite
profound but I figured that she
was just being herself, jubilant
and mumbly, unrehearsed. These
asides garnered some of the loudest
cheers though. So it seems that
the fans were happy to hear music
and poetry but more happy to hear
swearing and "whatever". Ugh.
Sitting now at a dark keyboard
far away from the pier it seems
a little silly to be annoyed with
folks just having a good time
but while I was there beside the
wildly cheering people, frothing
with glee that their icon just
said "fuck" onstage I felt a cold
knife slide between me and the
ability to relate to the mighty
Ani D. I tried to smile through
the faux-funk, spastic finger
picking, and breathy jerking lyrics.
I listened to each song, attempting
to divine the meaning and find
a personal place to relate to
each verse. The fans, the fans,
the fans. They made it so hard
though. So I stood and watched
and listened and waited for Ani's
message to reach me. In the outdoor
temple of the pier I hoped that
the rock-goddess would provide
me with a sign. Believe it or
not it came. During one of her
mumbly sililoquies Ani began to
talk about the feeling that she
had while going through the endless
hassle of an airport security
line. "We're doing this for you",
she quoted the airport security
checkers as saying. She then
described her own ire at that
statement. She knew that it was
all a crock of shit. The security
checks were just a show, not a
meaningful gesture toward the
passengers, but just a song and
dance meant to veil the fact that
the things that really caused
terrorism, like war, unfair economics,
and bad politics, happen daily
without fanfair or media attention.
Nothing makes a person feel more
accomplished than waiting in a
line. At that moment I realized
that it didn't really matter that
I didn't agree with the fans.
Instead I felt that at last I
got the message. I could be a
square, straight male, geek, non-faux-funk
fan and still see the same pointlessness
in society. Ubiquitous and intrusive
advertising, oppressive attitudes
toward women and all minorities,
and blatant misuse of power and
authority in government. There
Ani D. gave me hope that society
could be diverse and yet united
in a more rational mode of thought.
Fuck yeah.
courtesy of John Winters