This past week was one for the books—four concerts, back-to-back, because apparently, I still think I’m 25. First, I kicked things off with my local Dead tribute band (because what’s a Tuesday without some cardio twirling?), then met a friend to see a local cover band, then moved on to Warren Haynes, and wrapped it all up with Boy George opening for Squeeze. Let me tell you, it was a full-blown marathon of nostalgia, good vibes, and middle-aged concertgoers.
Warren Haynes (of Allman Brothers fame) was the highlight in terms of jam-band bliss. The crowd was solidly in their 50s to 70s—classic Allman Brothers fans, decked out in tie-dye and, of course, passing joints like it’s still 1975. But here’s the thing—I knew easily over 100 people at this show! The jam band scene is strong, and when Warren Haynes is in town, we all show up. Walking through the crowd was like a family reunion—hugs, high-fives, and endless conversations with people I’ve danced beside at every local gig. The problem? Once the show started, I was stuck smack in the middle of the crowd, and all I wanted to do was dance. The tension was real. Do I block all the sweet chair-dancing old-timers behind me, or sit still? I tried to contain myself for as long as possible, but eventually, I made my way to freedom, joining the crazy twirlers on the sides where I could finally let loose. Freedom to dance, spin, and vibe to the music—absolutely worth it.
Then came Boy George opening for Squeeze, which was like a trip straight back to the early 80s. The entire crowd was firmly in their 50s, reliving the glory days of neon and synth beats. Squeeze delivered their quirky brilliance and brought back so many “memories of late nights and coffee in bed.” Boy George, though? He set the tone with all the flamboyance we expected. I wasn’t a fan before, but I must admit—he got the crowd up and dancing. I didn’t know nearly as many people as I did at Warren, but I still bumped into a solid 10 people I recognized. Every concert I go to, half the fun is spotting familiar faces—whether from the Deadhead scene or just friends from local music outings. It’s like a reunion every time, and it feels like we all just keep showing up to chase that same live music high.
Oh, and let’s not forget the Doobie Brothers concert I saw this summer—same crowd, same vibe. We’re all middle-aged, all dancing like no one’s watching (even though, let’s be real, none of us have the same moves we did 30 years ago), and yes, still smoking weed like we’re sneaking something. Even when I went to The Sphere in Vegas to see Dead & Company, I knew a ton of people—and that was clear across the country!
There’s something special about this phase of concert-going. It’s not just about the music anymore; it’s about reconnecting with simpler times, when our biggest worry was which band tee to wear. Now we come prepared—Advil, water, and a solid parking plan so we’re not limping too far after the show.
And that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? We may be middle-aged, but the joy is the same. We’re laughing, swaying, and feeling the music just like we did decades ago. Sure, we’ve all got a little Touch of Grey these days, but just like the Dead sang—we will get by, and we sure as hell are going to dance while we do.
Whether it’s Warren Haynes’ soul shining, The Doobie Brothers taking it to the streets, or Squeeze tempting us with the fruit of another—there’s always that infectious happiness running through the crowd. No judgment, just fun.
Sure, our recovery time is longer, but when the music hits, we’re still those same kids who rocked out years ago. We just do it with a bit more caution and a lot more appreciation.
Now excuse me while I decide which tie-dye to wear tomorrow night.
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