Are you to old to see live gigs?

Triple J logo from Wikipedia.
The Triple J logo, courtesy of Wikipedia.

Hubby and I are *slightly* older Australian expats living in Germany and we love live music. We got tickets to see the German band Milky Chance when they came to Karlsruhe. No one else in our German acquaintance had heard of them, including young people. In Australia we listened to Triple J radio station a lot and this is where we had heard Milky Chance. Triple J is the national “youth” radio broadcaster. We were supposed to grow out of it but the music was just too darn good. Like sneaky alcoholics, we kept on listening in the privacy off our own home. We are not the only ones. Triple J launched a sister station in 2014 for those pesky older listeners.

 

Drink, check. Black Tshirt, check. Glasses, check. Orthotic insoles, check.

So Hubby and I have gone to a number of gigs to hear brilliant young musicians and we are usually the oldest people there. We are even older than the rough and ready bouncers. Or maybe we just look it, I don’t know. Anyway, we are noticeably older than everyone else standing around us, which garners us a bit of attention. I have only ever noticed a really positive reaction from the young people standing around us. Like the young woman who may have been under the influence of ecstasy giving me a very, very long hug, or the young man who told us to we were so cool, for our age. At an Illy gig, Illy announced that his mother was at the show. We all started to look around to see if we could identify her and a lot of people started pointing at me. I don’t have children myself so it is not often in my life that I am going to be able to claim any sort of parental pride. If opportunity knocks…

 

 

We saw Rüfüs first in Melbourne and had a ball, but with old timers disease just around the corner Hubby later said that he didn’t really remember the gig that well and we needed to go again. So we saw Rüfüs in Hamburg. It was OK but to tell the truth, German crowds don’t really go wild like they do in Australia. Maybe all kids are pretty straight laced these days, I don’t know, but the German crowd got into it in a German way, slightly swaying to the music, enjoying themselves on the inside maybe, despite Tyrone urging the crowd to cut loose.

 

The imfamous Rüfüs tickets, still on the fridge.
The infamous Rüfüs tickets, still on the fridge.

So Hubby decided we had to see Rüfüs again, this time in London. Everyone’s middle aged crisis hits them differently, I guess. We duly drove to Frankfurt Airport in the early hours of the morning only to realise we had left our tickets on the fridge at home! Argh!! We needed help. I appealed to the band on Facebook to assist their middle aged forgetful fans and they heard our pleas. Obviously their parents have raised them correctly to look after their elders. We were kindly put on the guest list.

 

The big night arrived and after a sound afternoon nana nap to ensure I could stay awake late enough to see the gig, and some much needed drinkies to ensure that my arthritis could not be felt, we arrived at the venue in Brixton.

 

Old timers tip, stand behind the mixer’s desk so people don’t stand on your aching feet.

Rüfüs were fantastic, as usual. Everyone got into the music, including us.  The very nice young people standing next to us gave us thumbs up signs, presumably because we had been able to stay awake for the gig. One young man who turned out the be a research scientist (my goodness young people are so responsible these days) from Australia asked me how we had heard of Rüfüs. I just said “Triple J” and he knew all there was to know.

 

 

 

 

We had an absolute ball, which was great because it was our wedding anniversary. The music was impossible to resist and I danced the entire gig. This was just as well given that if I stand still for too long I get quite a bit of arthritic pain in my feet. Moving around helps. See, this is why older people go to live gigs less. We have to have nana naps in order to stay up late enough, we have arthritis in our feet, and our necks hurt the next day from swinging our head around in time to the music.

 

I have told Hubby many, many times I am too old for this sort of thing but as usual, he just nods his head, says “Yes Dear”, and then does exactly what he wants. He tells me he has just purchased tickets for us to see Foals in New York. I’m not going!

Needless to say, we will continue to go to gigs for as long as we can remember to.

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