The Power of an Audience

Lots of hype this weekend about the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. You know the line: three days of peace and music, the highwater mark of 60's counterculture, etc, etc. It was all distilled into nostalgia a long time ago and is now a boomer cliche. That said, I've always been fascinated with the event, the idea of thousands of people coming together in a field in the country, taking hallucinogens, dancing to loud music, and losing themselves in the moment. The raves of the nineties had this too. Every culture has some form of it. There's a primal need for it.

The second Woodstock concert, in 1999, went down in a spree of violence, looting, and rape. Old timers shook their heads, disappointed by the nihilistic attitude of the younger generation. But you could bring your cooler full of food and beer to Woodstock in 1969. If you brought your cooler to Woodstock 1999, it was confiscated at the gate so they could sell you $12 slices of pizza and $4 bottles of water.

The difference between 1999 (or 2009) and 1969 is the role given to the audience. In 1969 it was still possible to think of the performers, organizers, and audience as one. Everyone participating together to make it happen. By 1999, the role of the audience had evolved from participant to consumer. A participant gives their own energy to the collective experience. A consumer simply consumes. Locked together in a corporate CAFO, the alienated audience of 1999 chose nihilism. Is there any other choice?

With live music, there is an emotional loop that runs from the musicians to the audience back to the musicians. Neither the musicians nor the audience are in control. Each depends on the other. This strong connection is also very tenuous. When the audience is relegated to the role of passive consumer, the musician is relegated to the role of vendor, and the concert becomes a transaction.

It's hard to lose yourself in a moment that's sponsored by Visa.