The title of this post is a bit dramatic perhaps, but that was how 2020 felt. I suppose I’m really referring to live music, and how 2020 became the first year in a quarter of a century I didnt see a single live band.

The first time I saw live music through choice (if you discount a visit to the Radio 1 Roadshow whilst on holiday in Scotland one year) was in 1995 was the free Heineken Festival in Roundhay Park in Leeds. There were lots of old bands I had no particular interest in as a teenager, but crucially also a day full of Britpop bands, some great (Pulp), some maybe not so great in retrospect (Menswear)

More than the actual music, I remember the experience of being at a live music event, and once I’d experienced it I never wanted to stop. By my first year at Uni, when I lived within walking distance of all the best gig venues in Manchester, I was probably up to 2 or 3 gigs a week. I slowed down a bit after that, but still typically made it to a couple of gigs every month and loved them all (well, almost all). I loved massive outdoor shows, and I loved tiny hardcore shows promoted by my friend. I didn’t go on holidays, I went to music festivals (including one where I met my wife).

At the start of my thirties I moved to Brighton to live with my wife and the number of gigs slowed down a little as we both worked and studied, and the financial and time pressures grew. Then we moved back to Leeds and had children, and it became tough to get to more than a handful of gigs a year, but we still loved them as much as ever, perhaps more so due to their rarity. There was certainly no question we would ever stop. In fact, towards the end of 2019, as our youngest child reached two and we felt better about leaving the kids with babysitters, I actually had a period of 4 gigs in 3 weeks, probably a decade since I had been to so many in such a short space of time. I thought I was at the start of a gig-going renaissance.

My 40th birthday was in March 2020, and I asked anyone who was likely to buy me anything for gig tickets, so I had plenty lined up for the year ahead, plus tickets for The Deer Shed festival, which would be our first since we had kids. Then, within 2 weeks, the whole country was in lockdown. At first there was some hope that gigs would be back by the Summer, or at least the Autumn, but even in those early days I remember reading an article saying that gigs as we know them wouldn’t be back until Autumn 2021. I found it hard to believe then, but as time passed and gig after gig got cancelled or rescheduled to the next year, it seemed more and more likely. One of the gigs we were due to attend was Toots and the Maytals. It was swiftly rescheduled to May 2021, then Toots died in September. A reminder that me missing a few gigs was hardly the worst thing about the pandemic.

Live streamed gigs really took off throughout the year, and whilst I appreciate musicians doing anything they can to keep themselves afloat, they don’t hold that much appeal for me. I’ve never really enjoyed watching live music on TV or listening on the radio, as it never seems to sound quite right, and there’s none of the benefits or atmosphere of a real live show

Will 2021 be any different? I imagine that after a good chunk of the population is vaccinated and the current lockdown ends, live shows will reappear in at least socially distanced form, but who knows when we will get a fully packed standing only gig again? It’s hard to imagine being in a crowd of people at all.

But, despite all this I can’t wait to be in that crowd again, beer in hand, expectantly waiting for the band to come on whilst crowds of like minded people mill about happily. And most of all I can’t wait for that transcendent moment, when the music combines in such a way that it becomes more than music, takes you out of yourself, becomes almost a spiritual experience. Those moments don’t happen at every show, but they remain some of the finest moments of my life and I only hope I get to experience them again.