PAN's Flea Bag

Most people can recall a specific moment when music made a difference in their life. Perhaps a song that came on the radio in the exact right moment, or when those musical notes on a paper finally made sense. For me, my first and biggest music related moment was a concert. I was 17. When you are 17 years old, you care a lot. You have all these big feelings that fill your body; you LIKE a little bit more, you LOVE a little bit more, and you (think) you LIVE a little bit more. You are so convinced that you have it all figured out, that you know what you want in life and that what is important when you are 17 - will always be equally important. For this reason, those teenage moments tend to stand out. Not because they were necessarily better than things you came to experience later, but because they were new. Because everything was new. This also means that when you are 17, even the smallest complication can seem like the actual end of the world.

I have always liked music, always listened to music, but I never really had a favorite artist or a favorite band. I listened to my dad's CDs, or what my friends said was good or currently popular. It wasn't until I heard a song in the intro for a TV show, that I felt something different. I must have been 16 at the time; with dark messy hair, skinny jeans, and an orange shoelace tied around my neck. I wish I had an explanation for that shoelace, but what can I say? I suppose I thought it was cool (it wasn’t). When I heard that song, I experienced a sense of curiosity, but also a feeling I couldn’t quite explain. The song itself wasn’t anything special really, but there was something about the singer’s voice, something that captured me, and made me look up whenever the song came on. It stayed like that for a while, until one day, when the singer in question made a guest appearance on the TV show. He spoke a few lines, wasn’t a very good actor in all honesty, but sang his song at the end. If I had liked the studio version, I absolutely loved the live recording.
     From there, it didn’t take very long until I was a full-feathered fan. I had finally found music that spoke to me, that I liked because I liked it, and not because someone else had told me it was good. It made me feel special, as if I knew a secret that many other Swedes (at least) were yet to find out about. Spotify didn’t exist back then, and I wasn’t tech-savvy enough to download anything off the internet. Instead, to my great satisfaction, this artist had all the songs from his first album available on his website. I could listen to them when I was online, at least, and while it was enough for a while – I wanted the album. I called all the record stores I could think of, searched for it online and hoped that one day I would find it. I suppose he wasn’t very famous in Sweden back then, because – strange as it was – the album was nowhere to be found. Now, knowing a bit more about the world, I am sure I could have ordered it from the US, but it seemed incredibly complicated at the time. …Or perhaps it never occurred to me, I really don’t know. 
     Then one day, on a family trip to the nearest city, I walked into a small record store with poor lightning. Most of the customers in there were big men with AC/DC t-shirts and thick beards, yet I felt right at home. I started going through the row of CD’s marked “D”, but just as I thought, the CD I wanted wasn’t there. I wasn’t even disappointed. I had gotten used to it. I strolled around for a while, looked at CD’s I had never heard of, just breathing in the atmosphere and pretending I belonged. I wanted to belong. At one point, right as I was about to leave I ended up at the ‘International’ section. I flipped through the plastic cases with little interest, and then… there it was! The CD I had searched everywhere for, with a large ‘IMPORTED’ sticker covering half the singer’s face. I think my hands were shaking as I brought it over to the register. It was mine.

A year later or so, I had listened to the album millions of times. I knew all the songs, had seen all available videos on Youtube and I knew everything there was to know about live shows and upcoming events. …Or so I thought. I randomly googled this singer’s name one day, and one of the first hits I got informed me that he would be playing in Stockholm. Sweden. …Wait, what? My heart almost stopped and I held my breath as I clicked the link. -SOLD OUT-

Let us re-visit what was said earlier; that when you are 17, there is a million ways that the world can fall apart, and it doesn’t take very much. My world literally crashed and burned as I realized that my favorite artist in the universe would be only hours away from me, and I wouldn’t be able to see him. It is important to understand here that this was a guy who had made me discover what music can really do, and how much power there can be in one single song. Thanks to his music, I was able to discovered other bands, I formed and developed my own musical preferences, and came several steps closer to understanding where I stood in the musical world. With this guy, it was never really the songs that I loved, but his voice. He could have sung anything, and I would have loved it just the same. Incredible vocal skills.
     I cried, I will admit, and I found refuge in the woods outside my house. I was not the kind of teenager who would cry openly, and I normally didn’t cry, but the disappointment was overwhelming. How could I have possibly missed that he would be playing in Sweden? 
     That evening I was sitting in my room, listening to my CD. It was apparently as close I would ever get to the man I admired so much. I painted a tree on my wall, because I wanted to remember that feeling of despair I had experienced hours earlier in the woods. Looking at that painted tree made me feel better somehow, but it didn’t make me feel good. Then, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Not now,” I said, because I didn’t want to see anyone.
“Hey,” my dad said from the other side of the door, “Something arrived for you.” 

He opened the door, only enough to stick his hand in, and in his hand was a ticket. My dad found a way to get a ticket for me. I still don’t know how he did it, but he did. He got me a ticket to a sold-out event, and promised to go with me on the 8-hour train ride, so that I could get to see my favorite singer live. Perhaps he called and got lucky, perhaps he bought it from someone, I really don’t know, and I never actually asked. I like the mystery.

I did go to the event; to the small bar where this guy would be playing. Now-a-days he plays at much bigger venues, but back then he played at a bar. I stood in line with a hand-full of people for an hour or two, and suddenly he – the person we were all waiting for – came walking across the small square. Alone. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and never in my life have I felt such absolute gratitude towards my dad. He had gone out of his way to get me there. I got my CD signed, the same CD I had searched everywhere for, and a handshake. My favorite singer in the world shook my hand, and told me he looked forward to seeing me inside. I knew he said that to everyone, but it didn’t matter. I could barely speak.
     Once inside, I made my way up front, and I sat on the low stage as I waited for him to come out. My dad stayed in the back somewhere. The concert itself was incredible, I knew all the songs, and once it was over he came out to talk to each and every one of us. He was just a regular guy who happily signed merchandise for his fans, and who posed for photos and offered hugs. I didn't have a camera with me (which I regretted for years), but I got that hug. It was a pretty good one. Once people started to leave, he invited a few pretty girls to the after-party. I was not one of them, I am sad to say, which could have something to do with me not being very pretty in those days, or the fact that I was 17 and standing next to my dad. It didn't matter though, because I was walking on clouds.

If the same thing would have happened now, 10 years later, it probably wouldn't have been as big of a deal as it was. But... it didn't happen now, it happened 10 years ago. Ten years ago, when I was 17. The next time I went to see him - he played at a full arena. While it was amazing, it wasn't the same as the first time. The first time I saw him live, and the first time I went to a real concert, was magical. 

Still to this day, I believe this particular musician is absolutely fantastic. I don't listen to his songs as much as I used to, but I recognize that he is incredibly talented, and I am very glad that he was the one who showed me the difference between a good song and a talented musician, as well as the power of well-written lyrics. This guy, back when I was 17, changed everything I thought I felt about music.