I had a most wonderful evening a couple of weeks ago, climaxing with tickets to the sold-out Decemberists show at the Riviera. It was a great concert, with high-energy, a crowd who was there to actually listen to the show, new and old songs, an easy to get to and easy to see in venue, non-ridiculous ticket prices, and a nice boy next to me.
So, why do I want my money back?
I was driving to one of my schools yesterday, a twenty-six-ish minute drive. I listened to Sons & Daughters on repeat the whole way there. And home. Singing at the top of my lungs. I do not know why I love this song so much. Weird lyrics. Amazing harmony. Guitar-picking that makes the heart melt. Rounds – who doesn’t love rounds in songs? Boyfriend says it’s the crescendo. Whatever the reason, I love it. And the Decemberists didn’t play it.
I’ve gone to concerts before where there was a song I really wanted to hear and the artist didn’t play it. But I’ve never not gotten over the fact, usually just shrugging my shoulders and saying “Oh well.” Yet here I am. Three weeks later. Upset. Fist waving. Cursing Colin, who I’m sure is a perfectly nice man who doesn’t deserved to be cursed at. Demanding he repay me.
Or at least give me a private in-home concert. Playing just that song. Over and over.