Three nights ago, I attended the sold-out Red Hot Chili Peppers show at the Wells Fargo Center in Philadelphia. It sold out rather fast from what I remember, but sometimes that just means the scalpers got to the tickets first.

But that was not the case for this particular show, as every single seat was filled by the time the horrendous opening band finished its set, and the Chili Peppers took the stage around 9:20 p.m. I certainly saw why. This was a phenomenal, high-energy show, attended by people who actually wanted to see the band and not just have a night out. Even from my seat up in the nosebleed section, I was enraptured. I left feeling jubilant and rather smiley. 

On the ride home, my friend and I were talking about how the Chili Peppers might be nearing the end of their touring days. Though it’s sometimes hard to tell, Anthony Kiedis and Flea (who walked across the entire stage on his hands at one point) are 49, and Chad Smith is 50. Not everyone can be the Rolling Stones, a band that will probably continue to play music from beyond the grave.

 So I guess I was lucky I got to to to see a Chili Peppers concert, especially since I know people who couldn’t get tickets. It’s something I will remember for a really long time. I felt this way after seeing a few other bands as well, and anyone who has ever gone to see one of their favorite bands in a great venue can definitely identify with that feeling.

I can check the Red Hot Chili Peppers off my list , but there are still a few bands I need to see before I die (or they do). This is not an experience that can be recreated. Listening to the live CD doesn’t cut it, no matter what kind of stereo it’s being played on. 

I hate the phrase “YOLO.” I think it’s just used as an excuse by drunken college kids to act stupidly and then blame it on this whole idea of carpe diem and dying tomorrow. I’m not sure anyone is actually thinking about how short life can be when he or she screams it at a party on a Saturday night.

However, this is one instance in which “you only live once” is appropriate. If picking up and driving across the country is the only way you are going to get to see your favorite band (and by band, I mean people who actually write music and play instruments and don’t need auto-tune during concerts), then do it. Things happen all the time, bands break up, injuries and illness happens, and sometime it’s not possible. 

So if anyone would like to send me money or plane tickets to go see the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Incubus in Spain this July, my email is at the bottom of this page. That is one concert I would not like to miss. 

 

Emily Nassi  is a contributing editor for The Review. Her viewpoints do not necessarily represent those of the Review staff. Please send comments to enassi@udel.edu.