Why it's Okay to Go to a Concert Alone

By John Walaszek

When I first moved to Chicago, I didn’t go see Bone Thugs-n-Harmony at Double Door because I couldn’t find anyone to go with. It was a Monday, but I guess nobody else wanted to unwind and go see Bizzy. So I didn’t go to the show, two blocks away from my apartment, because I didn’t want to go by myself.

There’s a weird stigma with doing something by yourself in public. There are certain things we accept doing alone, and other things that we do not. Instead of going to the show I probably just got high and watched Chappelle's Show, by myself. Watching shows and movies on your own in your own home is okay, but when other people can actually see you watching Life of Pi by yourself, it becomes extremely uncomfortable.

So when I couldn't find anyone to come and see The Orwells a few months ago, I bit the bullet and went alone. It was weird at first, but then kind of great. Complete freedom. Like sleeping naked for the first time. But when I tell people about that show, I get mixed reactions. A lot of people have told me that they admire my courage, like I overcame some tragedy, and that they could never go to a show alone. Others express jealousy, saying they wish they could do something like that.

Life happens, but you shouldn’t miss out on something because you’re too scared to walk to another building and stand there alone for two hours. Not to mention a building that is packed with music, people, and liquor. It’s impossible to end up spending the whole time alone.

However, I know that a lot of people can’t even fathom doing this, and that’s why I put together a list of things to remember just in case Bone Thugs-n-Harmony are playing down the street from your apartment and nobody else wants to go.

From the jump, you get to dictate how the evening goes. You can’t be late when you’re going to a show alone—you’re always right on time. Show up early and immediately put down three tallboys, or come through right when the headliner goes on. The whole experience is what you want to make it. You wanna stand off to the side so you can lean against the wall? Go for it. Wanna be near the bathroom so you can piss three time without losing your spot? Cool. Wanna do that stupid elbow dance you do when you're listening to music at home by yourself? All good.

Really. No one gives a fuck about you. There's so much going at a venue that you just become part of the blur. The only way to get these people's attention is to get on a stage with a guitar, so it's pretty easy to go unnoticed. No one is studying your movements, and there’s probably some crazy-eyed guy nearby who is much more fun to look at.

When you’re on your own, maneuvering is effortless. Twenty percent of being at a show with people is trying to talk about where to go. Four people with different opinions trying to talk over a band is rough. This usually ends up with the group being in that dead zone where it’s kind of dense and close to the stage, but people can push right through the group if they really want to. Then one person in the group will get bumped and spill beer on themselves, and then they’re in a shit mood for the rest of the night.

There’s a comfort and proximity ratio at any show. Hanging around the back comes with space and quick bar access, but you’re sacrificing visibility. On the flip side, getting close to the stage means enduring packed conditions and standing directly behind tall people. Fucking tall people.

If you’re by yourself, this is a non-issue because you’re by yourself and you can do whatever the fuck you want. I’ve been to shows with friends who don’t know the band, and sometimes it’s like watching your favorite movie with someone who has never seen it. You start checking to see if they’re laughing at the right parts of the movie, or if they’re feeling your favorite song. Shit is stressful, and it can take away from the experience.

Everyone at a show already has a common bond. They’re all about to watch a unique performance, and anything could happen. Maybe Mannie brings out Birdman, who knows. There’s a lot of excitement and alcohol, and you’re only going to meet people who probably have at least these two things in common with you. It’s likely that they’ll want to talk about both.

At The Orwells show, I found a perfect spot upstairs to overlook the stage and the pit. There was another guy next to me, and we struck up a conversation. It turns out he was a writer for the Chicago Tribune and I told him how I was there to review the show. He had tons of stories and some solid advice. Another time, I ended up hanging with a couple that I’m pretty sure wanted to have a threesome.

Opportunities will present themselves.

Hit the kill-switch on the night whenever you want. If you’re not feeling it and someone spills beer on you, bounce and regroup. Maybe you don't care about the encore. Maybe you really want to be home by 11 because there's a COPS marathon on TV. Or maybe you meet someone and end up kicking it for a while after. There’s no one pressuring you to stay longer or to leave early.

Concerts are about the social experience as much as they are about the music. People don't just go to concerts to listen to the people on stage. They go to be with friends, to sing along to songs they know, and to dance. This is all fine, but if you've ever been to a concert by yourself, you know that it's a different experience. Instead of singing along at the top of your lungs, you can actually hear the vocals. Instead of focusing on your dance moves, you pick up on the little things happening on stage. You'll end up taking in so much more of the show, and if you're at a really great concert, you might have a moment that you'd never be able to have if you were surrounded by friends.

I know it's weird, and I know you'll probably feel a little uncomfortable at first, but trust me, it will end up being worth it. It's okay to to a concert alone. Hopefully this inspires someone to not be scared, and to go see Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, on a Monday, at a venue two blocks from their home, by themselves.