Mike Bennett: December, 2000

Talking at Shows: Shut Up or I am Going to Kick Your Ass

When did all the talking start? The buzzing that seems intent on drowning out all music except for those few tunes played at the volume level of The Jesus And Mary Chain's Psychocandy.

Recently, I went to see Scottish folk-popsters The Delgados, expecting a special treat, since the five piece was bringing along a four piece string section. The location was The Empty Bottle in Chicago - a decent size dive that is one of the epicenters of indie music in the Midwest. The Delgados, to my ears, were breathtaking - their songs building from quiet breathy verses to deluges of guitars and violins, consistently swooping downward and upward with a rollercoaster intensity.

Sadly, the breath was not taken from about 100 or so persons who plunked down their $8 (plus god knows how much for beer) to prattle on incessantly and loudly, as if the music on the stage was interrupting THEM. At one point, during a particularly quiet point of a song, I could see one of the violinists yelling 'Shut the fuck up!" to the crowd. Of course, I couldn't hear her, because the crowd was too loud.

This talkitis is a relatively recent phenomenon. When I first started going to concerts in the early 80's, idle chatter usually only occurred during the opening act, and often only during the ill-timed, poorly rendered slow song. Amazingly, people who paid money to go to the show actually behaved like they wanted to go to a show. While I experienced my share of irritations at shows, such as overzealous frat boy slam dancers (elbows down, dudes), being bitten on the arm at an overcrowded Erasure show, and the guy who felt the need to sing (or rather drawl) along at the top of his lungs at a Stan Ridgway gig, I never had a problem hearing the headliner.

The first time I really became aware of a decline in concertgoing ettiquette was at an acoustic Bob Mould show. Getting seats in the front row of the balcony seemed like a boon, until it became apparent that the balcony was a refuge of people yakking about what they did last weekend, who they laid, real estate transactions (!) and everything in the world except for music.

This nuisance has spread like a virus. What was particularly galling about the Empty Bottle Delgados incident is that the club has a separate room where everyone who had something better to do could have talked into the night. I've heard various suggestions on how to get people to shut up, and admittedly, have not tried any. However, I must note, whatever magic Vulcan mind meld that could get one person to shut up would now have to be done one hundred times over.

So if you are one of those goddamn talkers at a show, listen to me carefully. If I pay my hard earned cash to see a performer, respect that. I've had the misfortune of having to hear your pathetic attempts at conversation, and quite frankly, you couldn't pay me $100 to bore me to death with your expertise in microbrews or how you really showed your boss at work. I'm 6'3'' and 225 pounds - I'm probably much bigger than you. I will ask you politely once. The next time I will do whatever it takes to make you clam up - I'm not going to enjoy the show anyway, so I don't care if I get kicked out. You hear me?

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