{"id":628,"date":"2012-04-29T22:47:27","date_gmt":"2012-04-30T02:47:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/michaelteager.com\/blog\/?p=628"},"modified":"2014-02-16T12:43:20","modified_gmt":"2014-02-16T16:43:20","slug":"serendipitous-blogging-stifle-iii","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/michaelteager.com\/blog\/2012\/04\/29\/serendipitous-blogging-stifle-iii\/","title":{"rendered":"Serendipitous Blogging & Stifle III"},"content":{"rendered":"

Last Sunday’s post<\/a> discussed frustrations with social media. The next day I happened upon this article<\/a> touching on a similar, albeit more specific topic: live-tweeting.<\/p>\n

I intended to rail against live-tweeting in last week’s article, but by the time I remembered to do so I was ready to be done with that particular entry. Although Daniel Carlson’s article centers around television, his complaints apply universally. A common, though perhaps less ubiquitous, phenomenon in music is the live-tweeting of setlists. While this occurs mostly with pop music, other styles aren’t exempt. NPR Music’s classical and jazz branches occasionally live-tweet setlists (or, rather, “programs”) from The Village Vanguard or Carnegie Hall. I just don’t get it. Are there folks sitting at home with the entire Chopin catalogue on standby, listening to whatever nocturnes and polonaise is tweeted next? (And to the many<\/em>\u00a0sources that live-tweeted Bruce Springsteen’s SXSW keynote address as he gave it: don’t do that again. Just publish a transcript afterwards.)<\/p>\n

The closest I get to this as a consumer is my checking DMB’s setlist each night of a tour. Full disclosure: I’ve been doing this since 2000, and both the band and unofficial site provide real-time setlists online. But I don’t need the songs as they happen.<\/p>\n

Once, unfortunately, I was on an end similar to the dreaded live-tweeter. At the 06.13.09<\/a> DMB show at Saratoga, NY’s SPAC<\/a>\u00a0– one of the absolute best DMB shows I’ve attended –\u00a0I experienced my first “Halloween.” With the exception of 1992-4 and an unexpected run in 2008, this song is one of the band’s white whales (along with “Spoon” – still waiting to see that one live…). I’ve only seen it twice live, and the first didn’t happen until my 39th show. I absolutely LOST IT<\/strong><\/span>\u00a0when they busted it out as a surprise encore. After my screaming and convulsing – dancing<\/em>\u00a0is too classy of word for what I was doing – I had to text all my friends who I thought would care. In my excitement and need to spread my joy via phone, I ended up missing a portion of this song I had waited so many years to see. And while I can relive DMB’s performance via audience tape, there’s a chunk of my excitement I cannot relive because I was staring at my phone. While I was never one to really text or anything during a rock concert before that night – I’ve never done the call-and-hoist-the-phone routine, and I never leave my phone on during classical or jazz performances – I’ve all but cut it out of my concert-going experiences since then. I’d rather be in the moment than on the network.<\/p>\n

And when I saw “Halloween” again last year at\u00a0The Gorge<\/a>\u00a0I didn’t grab for the phone – I sang and danced with my friends. That memory is much more intact.<\/p>\n

“Halloween” @ SPAC 06.13.09
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