Let The Yoke Fall From Our Shoulders

As many of you know, I have really been grooving on the newest album by my favorite artists, The Decemberists.  The album is a folksy, pastoral love letter to American roots, and is the perfect Spring/Summer soundtrack.  In January Husband and I and our friends Fran and Josh were supposed to see the band live in Royal Oak, but due to a surprise "Snowpocalypse" it was rescheduled for April!  I have caught every tour since Picaresque, and, as usual, was not disappointed.

Beautiful backdrop!

As I mentioned to Fran, half of the fun of going to a concert is seeing the band you love live.  The other half is seeing what sorts of people also love the bands you love.  I feel that no matter what sort of concert I am going to, there are a few types of fellow concertgoers who always seem to find me.

• The Overly Emotional Fangirl.  Standing quietly by herself, hand on heart, eyes wide and brimming with tears. She knows all the words.  She is in another world.
• The "This is Our Song" Couple.  In between every song, the couple in question becomes so romantically charged by the concert experience that they tackle each other in a fit of passion, oblivious to the crowd around them.
• The Encroacher.  They start out behind you, but somehow by the end of the concert they rudely stand in front of you with thier cell phone raised up taking pictures (or worse, video!) right in front of your face.
• The Inappropriate Bromance.  Some guy loves - like, REALLY loves the lead singer.  He is in the front few rows reaching high above the other fans - so close he could almost touch them.  He yells out "jokes" and attempts to banter with the lead singer between songs.  He addresses the lead singer by first name.  He cries out the names of the songs he would like to hear.
• The Drunk Grinding Girls.  Somebody mentioned that there would be music and a bar.  They don't usually care about the band, but are just excited to slut out with thier girlfriends in public.  Often seen with a nondescript red plastic cup in one hand grinding up on whomever happens to be closest.  Can also be identified by piercing shrieks emanating from them after every song.

This last group is the funniest at a concert like the Decemberists.  It's really odd to watch someone dirty dance to songs about labor disputes in Montana or fantasy butchers who murder naughty children in thier beds.