like being 17 again

Last night I went with my friend Fernando to a concert to hear the Canadian supergroup The New Pornographers (truly an unfortunate name) and Belle and Sebastian, a Scottish group whose lead singer has been interviewed by Terry Gross. As I dimly recall, I hadn't been to a medium-sized concert hall in several years. At this one, the Concourse Exhibition's Design Center in San Francisco, the doorfolk scanned my ticket's bar code, like the checkers do at the grocery store. Anyhow, the place turned out to be a long, cavernous venue, one certainly not built for musical performances. By the time we arrived after 8 p.m., the New Pornographers had taken the stage, a fact we were wise to as we hustled down the street and could hear music blasting from the Design Center.

Brief interruption: I love the NP's CD, "Twin Cinema." It's power pop, heavy, heavy, heavy on the drums and guitars, the kind of CD that's made for rocking out to in the car (and I do so, whenever I have the chance). I didn't cotton to the disc on first listen, but when I gave it a second try, the music got under my skin and quickly became my interior soundtrack.

But back to the show: I tend to avoid concerts where I feel less like an audience member and more like a cow in the herd. Yeah, we got to stand around to watch the show, or, in my case as one of god's little people at 5'2", I got to stand and listen to the bands while I gazed at the back of people's heads or watched a gaggle of gals gyrate to Belle & Sebastian (I'd never thought of them as a dance band, but for some fans, they seem to be). A friend turned me on to Scottish popsters Belle & Sebastian some years ago. I have "The Boy With the Arab Strap" and "If You're Feeling Sinister" and like both CDS. Like, not love. Ninety minutes of their pleasant but not particularly interesting performance was more than enough for me.

The sound system was unkind to the NP. Regardless, when the band played songs I recognized from "Twin Cinema," I closed my eyes and swayed to the music, bilssfully unconscious of how I, a mid-lifer and not much of a dancer, looked in my attempt at rythmic moving. Ah, but nevermind, because the NPs music makes me feel young -- like the world is spread out before me ripe with possibilities. B&S attracts a smart, seemingly sensitive group of fans. The girls and guys looked urban hip, dressed but not dressed up. For the evening, I was one of them, even as I observed more than partcipated (a familiar vantage point), I had three-minute pop song moments of feeling like anything could happen, a fantasy worth the price of admission.