I can't enjoy concerts anymore because they are too loud.

I worked on the Armed Forces Radio broadcast of the Ted Nugent concert at Arrowhead Stadium back in the day. Two things I learned about him:

1. Most of those guitar amps on stage are fake.
2. Ted wears earplugs.

From those two things, I pretty much instantly loathed him.

 

I am 5'2". At a concert a few weeks back, I got there early and I staked out a prime spot right next to the top of a few steps separating the general GA floor from the "elevated" GA floor on the sides and back. A totally unobstructed view - until the concert started and a couple, both over six feet tall, left the general GA floor and positioned themselves right in front of me on the actual steps. Mind you, standing on the actual steps is prohibited at this particular venue.

I kindly asked them to move to the side as I could not see over them. (The people behind me were miffed at them as well). They obliged but got a bit huffy - claiming that being "sizeist" was as bad nowadays as being sexist or racist.

 

Before they banned smoking in Kansas City bars, I shot a concert by a band a friends son was in at Mike's Tavern, and I nearly puked from the second-hand smoke. My camera smelled like smoke for days after from all these twenty-somethings smoking like it was the cure for cancer (to steal Denis Leary's line.) By the way, what the hell is a broseph?

Dealing with ringing ears might be fine for those who rarely go to concerts, but those of us who do it every week need to preserve ours.

 

I hope you're OK.

Maybe it's generational.
Maybe you had to experience those Who, Hendrix and Zeppelin shows to miss it.

I'm the first to admit that my memories are colored by nostalgia but being part of those smokey, sweaty crowds are experiences I wouldn't trade for anything.
Not for anything.
The lights go out and the arena is illuminated by hundreds and sometimes thousands of matches and lighters sparking up those "now it's dark and safe to light up those doobies". Don't drink from that Bota Bag (remember those?) being passed around unless you want to trip ...

Living a hygienic safe life is certainly healthier and easier on the senses but it's not nearly as much fun ... at least for me.
It was a great time to be young, immortal and part of the counterculture.
God I miss it, there's that nostalgia rearing it's ugly head.

I'm in my 60's now and have made my living in professional editing and mixing sound for over 30 years.
I have my hearing checked annually and aside from age related loss I am still a fully functional part of the workforce ... weird I know.

Now let me tell you about that Grateful Dead Wall of Sound Tour ... the volume, the dancing, the roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd ...
Everybody's mileage will vary ... I get it.

 

I've been to a few smaller venues where they crank up the sound waaaayyy to loud. Last winter I saw a French metal act called Alcest and the sound was so loud that it was unbearable. The venue sold foam ear plugs, but that destroyed a lot of why I wanted to see the group in the first place. They're more finesse than bombastic, so the loss of detail made the concert less enjoyable. The same venue also cranks it up too loud during their 80s Dance nights, so I wasn't too surprised.

Back when I did sound - very small clubs, mind you - I usually only miked the singer's voice and provided monitors for the other musicians. In those cases it worked very well.

Over the summer I saw John Moreland play in Ann Arbor. Small venue but good sound - not too loud, not too soft, and clarity. Perfect for mostly acoustic music.

 

I'm 6' tall, and always try to be aware of the people around and behind me. The very first time I saw Tori Amos was in 1992 at Schuba's Tavern, a bar that seats 200 people - if they really like each other.

In this instance, the record company had bought out the house, and set it with rows of seats for their guests, and those of us who had been waiting to get in for hours were only allowed in as "standing room" behind the last row.

Most of my fellow standees (including my wife) were women, and shorter than me. So I spent the entire show kneeling.

 

There is always at least two a-holes ready to ruin a fun show in general admission. Unless I'm going with a good sized group of friends, who'll watch out for each other, I'll be buying seats whenever possible or just not go at all.

 

Except Ted Nugent I gather.

 

My hearing is far too precious to waste on the Nuge.

 

Saw Y&T at the Uptown Theater here in town this past summer and should've worn earplugs. Just way, way, way too loud. Learned my lesson when I flew down to San Diego to see Metallica a month later. Wore earplugs the whole time, even though the show was at an outdoor ballpark and we were a significant distance from the stage. Still an incredibly loud sound. I get that metal is supposed to be loud, but this was pretty insane.

 

It’s a sort of modern version of a hesher, or frat boy. It’s based on those packs of dudes who call each other variations of ‘bro’- broseph, Broba Fett, GI Bro, Brolympus, Lebroski etc.

 

You, sir, are a true gentleman!

 

I try to buy seats, as well, when possible. Unfortunately, some of the smaller clubs in my area are GA-only. Most of time, other people are pretty cool with the height issue. I don't know what was the matter with the couple at the recent concert.

 

I try to be chivalrous, like when we saw an absolutely amazing show by Sinead O'Conner at Chicago's Vic Theater. There were far more women at this show than men, resulting in a long line in front of the balcony women's bathroom. So ten minutes before Sinead's set was to start, I took it upon myself to guard the entrance to the balcony men's room and make it a temporary women's. My wife (who loves me, mind you) describes me to strangers as "scary looking" so most of the guys who came to use the restroom took my advice to use the ground floor men's room, and I think we were able to make a pretty serious dent in the long line before I had to run when Sinead's set started.

 

I just tear off a bit of a napkin, roll it into a tiny ball and stick'em in my ear. Takes a little edge off and it's easy and cheap

 

My wife's MO too. I just curse the sound man and walk away from the noise.

 

I witnessed my share of real loud rock show in the seventies-Led Zeppelin perhaps the worst. Nowadays I think the volume is not so extreme.
Or maybe I lost my hearing back then

 

Ugh.

I saw Neil Young with Promise of the Real last year, and the show was completely ruined by old drunk people wobbling around going, "woo!" at inappropriate moments (i.e. during the songs.) It soured me to that kind of experience. I want to hear a good show, not their drunk ramblings while they struggle to stay on two feet.

 

I don't belittle old uns for having a good time just don't want to be part of it.

 

Never liked napkins. It muffles the sound too much, and tends to push the wax deeper into your ear canal.

By the way, I clean the wax out of my ears with a mixture I learned from an ENT - a mixture of one part water, one part white vinegar and two parts hydrogen peroxide.

I mix it in a bottle and warm it to body temperature, then pour it into one ear, wait five minutes as it bubbles, then wash it out with warm water. I usually get chunks of hard wax washed out into the sink.

Some also recommend a drop or two of baby oil to soften wax.

Don't do any of these things if you have a history of middle ear infections, swimmer's ear or a perforated ear drum.

 

No belittling here. I like getting drunk as much as the next person, but it's just a little annoyance I have. Smaller shows tend to alleviate this slightly

 

Oh man, there was a dude behind me last time I saw Nick Lowe. It was an incredibly quiet acoustic show, and this chowderhead was yelling "Woo!" and "Jesus of Cool!" and all this other stuff that he thought made him seem like an insider during the songs.

 

I find younger people even more annoying at least there's sometimes a pretty face serving at the bar.

 

Nuge was my loudest concert, I think it was the Wango Tango tour, San Bernardino Swing Auditorium. For days afterward, every time I moved my head I'd hear fuzzy white noise in my ears.