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A Bit of Nostalgia

I don’t often write about my love of music, other than the occasional mention here and there, but I can rarely go a day without listening to some type of music.

At work, I’m stuck with whatever is playing on the speakers and has been mandated by corporate as appropriate and necessary, so I often keep a set of headphones nearby and will turn on my own music. Outside of work, I normally have Spotify or Pandora queued up and playing in the background, providing a sort of soundtrack to the daily mundane activities (washing the dishes, brushing my teeth, etc).

1017308_10151514456745988_91608121_nMy tastes in music aren’t anything too extravagant, as I like “feel good” music, and lately have been listening to artists I feel are “socially acceptable” for my age (Mumford and Sons, The Black Keys, The Lumineers), but every now and again I find myself going back to my old favorites– a group that I would say is instrumental in my love of music, and the first group that I ever really cared about while growing up.

I listen to this music in private, and am always uneasy mentioning this particular group because I’ve been afraid of being teased by people who may not have respect for a “boy band” or for fans of that type of music. Over the weekend, I was able to not only be able to listen to this group in public, but attend a concert with old friends who also love the Backstreet Boys just as much as I do.

When presented with the offer of going to this concert a few weeks ago, I eagerly jumped at the prospect, not only because it has been almost a decade since the last concert I’ve attended, but because I really, really wanted to see my old favorite group performing together again.

I was even more excited when my friend Heather revealed that a little light sleuthing on the internet had provided her with a tentative set list and that I knew (and loved) 90% of the songs on said list.

Most of my Saturday was spent anxiously checking the clock and waiting for it to be time to make the trek out to Riverport for the concert (I realize that the name has changed, but it will always be Riverport in my heart).1146516_10151514456670988_1380262367_n

1004915_10151514457075988_730396287_nWhile waiting for the main act to come onstage, the other women in my group and I entertained ourselves with a couple of beverages (being old enough to legally drink at a concert was pretty exciting for me) and some camera phone fun (many selfies were taken, most of which are too goofy to share). We also passed the time reminiscing about days long gone and all of the fun times we’d had together in our pre-adult years.

Once the main act started, I felt like I had been transported back in time, all the way back to my high school days, when I sang along to every song and danced without a care in the world. At one point during the night one of the girls remarked that she was fairly certain some other concert goers might be recording us to post on YouTube, but I was having such a good time that if they were, I didn’t care.

I was impressed with not only myself, but with Heather, as we managed to remember nearly every single word to all of the songs, and sang along without abandon the entire time. Since neither of us is 16 anymore, we did have to take a couple of breaks from the dancing to catch our breath, but managed to be up and jumping around like a couple of teenagers by the start of the next peppy song. 

Some may mock boy bands, or say that they aren’t as credible of artists as others, but one thing I know to be true is the Backstreet Boys put on quite a show.

I may have lost my voice a little bit by “singing” at the top of my lungs, or by taking part in the ear piercing screams with the rest of the crowd, but I’ll always remember (hopefully) how much fun I had at the concert. For a few short hours I was able to relive one of my favorite things from my youth, and was overjoyed that I was able to share the experience with my best friend from high school.

This experience reminded me of how much I love live music, so I’m hoping that I won’t wait nearly a decade before the next concert I decide to attend.


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