When Elena Rybakina was about to serve on match point at this year’s Australian Open women’s final, she didn’t ask a member of the crowd to come down on court and take the stroke for her. Similarly, when Rasmus Neergaard-Petersen lined up a pressure 10-foot putt on the final hole of golf’s equivalent event, the Dane didn’t offer the shot to some punter from the hospitality tent (who’d probably been moronically yelling “It’s in the hole!” 27 times when players hit putts on the 18th) to make the attempt.
Why? Because the crowd members lacked the skill and the talent. They were there to see the best in the world at their professions perform, and had paid for the right to do so.
Why, then, do punters at music concerts believe they have permission to sing along when bands are playing?
You’ve probably paid upwards of $100 for a ticket, bought the tour T-shirt, the limited edition green vinyl record, a couple of overpriced drinks and snacks, and now you’re prepared to drown out the artist you’ve travelled to the venue not only to see but, most importantly, hear. Instead of a band in full flight, you’re willing to be drowned by a dirge of unlistenable noise, created by yourself and some tone-deaf fan standing next to you, yelling in your ear.
Atmosphere at a live concert is vital but it needs to be created by the band onstage.
And worse are the bands that encourage it – and there are too many to mention but, as an example, I’m looking at you, Chris Martin. The “come sing with me!” appeal from the lead singer of Coldplay? Leave me out of that, champion.
“Just thousands of hearts beating together … it’s about the connection we share in those few magical minutes when everyone is singing the same song and feeling the same joy,” Martin has said. That’s one connection I can do without.
And I’m taking him out of context but punters who sing along should take advice from another one of his quotes: “More idiots should just shut their mouths.” (And if you are sad enough to go and see Coldplay, look out for the kiss-cam, as we all know no good will come of that.)
Atmosphere at a live concert is vital but it needs to be created by the band onstage, not by the crowd.
When looking for an answer to life’s conundrums, it’s always hard to go past The Simpsons for guidance. One episode depicting a Spinal Tap concert nails the disingenuousness of bands calling for audience participation.
Derek Smalls: “You know people think there are only five members of Spinal Tap, but … they’re wrong.”
Silence.
David St Hubbins: “Can we turn up the house lights, please? That was the cue to turn up the house lights so we can tell the audience they’re the sixth member of the freaking group.”
Nigel Tufnel: “We are trying to put a tiny thrill into their grey little lives. Oh, forget it.”
Smalls: “That’s it. Show’s over.”
St Hubbins: “Goodnight, Springton. There will be no encores.”
Wu-Tang Clan played at Sydney’s Qudos Bank Arena last month on their Wu-Tang Forever: The Final Chamber tour. Despite their diminished line-up, this was the last time one of the great hip-hop collectives in history would perform in Australia.
So did the audience take it all in, the final time to enjoy the flow and lyrical skill of RZA, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck et al? Despite the usual call-and-response from the rappers, did they let some of the most influential artists showcase their mastery of the genre? Um, no.
It was certainly impressive that a nearby middle-aged man had probably spent his teen years learning every line of Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). Still, I certainly didn’t want to hear it at Qudos Bank Arena. And he certainly wasn’t Robinson Crusoe.
If you want to sing along, there is a place for you – apart from Dante’s nine circles of hell, where The Beatles’ Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da is played on repeat for eternity. It’s called a karaoke club. Go along with your mates, if you have any, get a private booth and pretend you’re Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit and knock yourself out. Hopefully.
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