Tonight... saw Bahamas and Amy Millan & the Secret Weapon.
When I was in junior high, I started to read (but rarely post in) indecline.net -- which still exists, but for the most part has been moved over to spinternet.ca. -- Edmonton's music community. I would pour over pages of discussions, reading about 'local' bands I would never see, remembering names and members and faces and bars.
In senior high, I started going to hall shows in a neighboring town. I was at the front of every crowd, intrigued by what really was simply mediocre high school punk bands, and making friends* with traveling bands.
When I moved out, the walls of my first apartment (aka. dorm room) was plastered with show posters. In fact, I attended more concerts than handed in papers -- on time. I bought my first record player after my father refused to let me pack his vintage system to champ city with me. Almost two years ago, I was hired as a membership and door girl at the Starlite Room, one of the city's concert venues. I've worked my way up to serving and I have my own bartending night (Tuesdays!).
But I'm restless. I want more. I want this passion and this creation that I spend so much time watching from the outside. I want more than to listen and to move to the beat.
I want to stop falling in love with musicians. Fall in love with me.
* "making friends" may or may not mean sharing drinks and smoking doobs.