Contributors, Detractors, & Wild Cards

In the state of Utah many cities celebrate the anniversary of when their municipalities were officially founded with some sort of festival or community party. Steel Days in American Fork, Highland Fling in Highland, Alpine Days in Alpine, and Fort Herriman Town Days in Herriman, to name a few.

By tradition or trend, these celebrations have grown into week-long experiences that often include rodeos, farmer’s markets, carnivals, concerts, parades, firework shows, and much more. Some cities manage their event budgets wisely while others spare no expense.

Those who know me well can tell you exactly where I will be during such festivities. Especially at the concerts… In the front row, baby. Dawning my ear protection and jumping with the teenagers like I somehow forgot how old I am. 

Maybe it’s nostalgia driving, or the pursuit of electrifying energy, but I love being so close to the stage that I can literally feel the music rattle though my body. I love it and can’t get enough. There’s just something special about jamming out with a crowd and enjoying the music together.

However, have you ever been to a concert and you were the only person standing up front? No one else nearby to jump around with you? No group claps? No crowd-led singing? Just you. Alone in front of the band.

I can tell you from a recent experience that enjoying a rock show by yourself is nowhere near as enjoyable as it is with a crowd. In fact, it’s uncomfortable and weird. 

To be fair, I wasn’t actually alone, but I might as well have been. 

In reality, there was a large group of people, but they were all seated in lawn chairs in the most awkward placement possible.

They were far enough away from the stage to allow the “front row Joes” to do what they do at rock shows, but they were also close enough that anyone standing up would obscure their view of the stage. 

It was this, the awkward placement of chairs, that almost broke the entire rock show for both the band and the crowd. Here’s how it happened. 

This particular concert was outdoors and free to the public. As usual, throughout the day families would arrive at the park and stake their claims to plots of grass by setting up lawn chairs and blankets. Slowly, as the day moved along, more and more grass areas filled up, forcing new-comers to either sit far in the back or set up their chairs closer and closer to the stage.

When it came time for the concert at the end of the day, the designated standing zone in front of the stage had been eaten up by late-comers looking for space to sit, leaving much less space than originally assigned for the standing crowd. 

As the band started to play, the Front Row Joes arrived, myself included. However, wanting to be respectful of the nearby chair sitters, a few Joes took a seat on the grass so as not to obstruct the view.

The chair sitters were grateful, but all the Joes were disheartened, frustrated that they couldn’t enjoy the show they had been anticipating.

Now, if you have been to many rock concerts, you know that most musicians feed off of the energy of the audience. Without a crowd front and center, jumping and rocking out, the band didn’t have the fuel to keep energy high. Consequently, the performance began to match the energy of the crowd. Slow and mellow.

Seeing the response, I decided to stand, hoping not to be seen as disrespectful or rude, but also hoping the other Joes would join me in my effort to help raise the band’s energy.

Unfortunately for me, they didn’t get up. At least not yet.

I felt embarrassed and super awkward. So much so that I was about to sit down to avoid further humiliation. 

Despite the discomfort, I went to some of the other Joes and invited them to join me up front. Gratefully, they were fast and eager to join. Apparently they just needed a little extra encouragement, as if it were permission to break the cultural barrier of standing in front of seated spectators. 

It wasn’t long before other spectators came from all over the park to join the fun up front. And then, with an energized crowd, it only took a song or two for the band to reshape their performance to match the energy of the area around them. A night and day transformation. 

The rest of the show was exactly what the fans came for. Pure rock and roll.

Despite the positive ending, this story could have ended very differently, and inspires a number of important questions. For example:

• What would have happened if the standing area was roped off more clearly? 
• How would have things changed if no spectators came to the front?
• Who were the detractors in this experience? And who were the contributors? 
• How does William Felps’ Bad Apple principle apply here?
• How often are we unknowingly the “bad apple,” spoiling things for others unintentionally?