"Be careful what you wish for," the infinitely wise woman I call "Momma" always warns me. Well, allow me to throw caution to the wind, Momma, when I say, dear God, I wish I was 21.
Now, I know what most readers may be thinking — this little girl just wants to head to Riley's, buy a case of robust and flavorful Beast Lite, and party hearty with her giggly, teeny bopper friends. But, as usual, readers would be wrong. Unlike the 50 percent of campus that is under the age of 21, I just want to get into music venues and concerts. No, I'm not kidding. In all honesty, my inability to visit such venues never bothered me before; I used to be perfectly content seeing the occasional G-rated concert at the Orpheum or Memorial Union. But with the announcement of the SoCo Music Festival's lineup came the realization that everywhere (in Madison at least) the underage are in chains.
This Saturday, at the aforementioned music festival, the Flaming Lips and Cold War Kids, among others, are slated to play a show at Madison's very own Alliant Energy Center, and I, a newly converted Lips' fan, would pay anything to go.
Unfortunately, no sweet talk can change the price of this music festival, which only requires that attendees have a birth date before Sept. 8, 1986. Yes, the show is free to all those 21 and over. So, alas, I will not revel in the Flaming Lips' notorious blood-spouting, confetti-throwing madness, nor will I witness the Lips' lead singer Wayne Coyne's infamous hamster-ball crowd-surfing feat. Instead, I will probably circle the farmer's market or, even worse, study in my jail cell of a dorm room. The injustice, I fear, is almost too much for my 19-year, eight-month and 17-day-old self to bear.
But, as luck would have it, this Flaming Lips spectacle is not the only event I'm precluded from due to my unfortunate birth date. Madison's many music venues play host to hordes of international acts throughout the year, intending to cultivate our minds and rock our souls on a daily basis. Yet, besides the 18-and-over weekend shows that are seemingly intended to compensate for the lost liquor sales with a larger number of concertgoers, the vast majority of these concerts require attendees be of legal drinking age.
And, although the SoCo Music Festival put the notion into motion, this fact was impressed even further into my brain with my recent attempt to review last night's The Gray Kid concert at the Annex. Even the offer of a wrist band (or shackle) signifying my infantile status could not sway this club from its firm 21-or-over policy.
Why couldn't the Annex allow me, a budding journalist, into the establishment facility to do a simple concert review? "It's the law," said Darwin Sampson, the Annex's booking manager. Well, Law, we are now mortal enemies.
Yet, when all is said and done, it would be foolish for me to blame the music promoters or the good people of Southern Comfort for barring me from these events — I would never logically expect any festival or venue to allow an underager into a show where the whiskey and beer flow like wine.
No, instead, I blame my parents for not procreating a year-and-a-half earlier. Granted, I may not be who I am or where I am today, but at least I could see Architecture in Helsinki's ferocious indie pop show when they play the High Noon Saloon Oct. 23.
So, why does anyone care about this sad, pathetic 19-year-old? Well, you probably don't, but you should. Maybe you desired these two most lauded of digits for reasons other than my own, but, possibly not too long ago, you were in my place. So I say to you readers 21 and over, seize the opportunity to see and hear what I cannot and taste what I, legally, should not.
Sarah is a sophomore majoring in journalism. E-mail your melodramatic music questions to [email protected].
