Victor Bloom MD
Having gone to the U2 concert at the Silverdome recently, I was reminded of why young people show up by the thousands and old folks stay away. It is too bad, because the concert was a blast. It was also cool. Some of us 'old folks' want to bridge the generation gap, instead of looking across a vast chasm and not 'getting it'.
My youngest daughter is 30 and a newlywed. She called to say she would be coming in to go to a concert Hallowe'en night, and that they would take us out to dinner the following night. I thought that was a great idea. I said we were going to a concert too. She thought it would be the DSO at Orchestra Hall. No, we've got tickets to U2 at the Silverdome. She was delighted and told her husband. He said, "wow!--- your folks are so cool!" Music too my ears! I'm not an 'old fogie' yet.
I remembered that 15 years ago, when she was 15, I accompanied her to the Palace, where "The Who" were playing. They were one of the top groups at the time and I wanted to see what it was all about. When I came home about two in the morning I woke up my wife and said I had just seen another wonder of the modern world. The experience was gigantic and almost overwhelming. I compared it with Niagra Falls or the Grand Canyon.
First of all, you wouldn't believe the sound. Hundreds of watts. Hundreds of decibels. I didn't use ear plugs but braced myself. You could 'hear' the music in your chest, in your liver and kidneys. There was a driving beat and some fantastic guitar playing. Pete Townsend was a great musician. At the end of a concert his fingers would be bleeding. Eventually, mindless of the destructive impact of the sound on the inner ear over time, he went deaf, but he was in his element.
The 'element' was an elemental 'happening'. The young people on the main floor were standing throughout the three hour marathon, arms overhead, swaying with the music, clapping, singing, screaming. Viewed from above, the mass of humanity below seemed like one giant cell, with a concentrated nucleus crowding the stage. The rapport between performers and audience was immediate and intense. There was a 'contagion' of happy, loving feelings. It was a chance to 'let go' and give vent to primal forces. Every culture has their songs and dances, and ours is quite varied, in line with the range of ethnicities in our country. Rock music is one form of expressing a powerful beat, unrelenting and building to a powerful climax. There are also gentler 'ballads', songs about love and peace, sadness and longing.
Now, fifteen years later, the U2 is an older band which has maintained a large following. 36,000 seats were sold at hefty prices. Many in the audience knew the songs and sang along. In addition, there was a spectacular light show and creative graphics on a giant screen, which alternately showed the band members enlarged a thousand times and amorphic shapes in varied colors, which added an element to the sound. It was a sound and light show, and these two elements combined to add to the excitement. Everyday life can get a bit boring and monotonous, and this was something different, a vivid and memorable experience to lift you out of the commonplace. It was a Bacchanalia, a Dionysian experience, which has always been with us in one form or another.
The demands of civilization are sometimes a burden upon us, we need an opportunity now and again to sing, to dance, to scream, and that is what the young folks were doing. It is a great opportunity to let off steam and to give vent, safely, to erotic drives. Civilization gives opportunities to sublimate primitive instincts, that is why we have sports; that is why we have 'entertainment'. In the recent past, audiences responded by rioting to what is now 'classical' music, the 'Bolero' by Ravel and the 'Rite of Spring' by Stravinsky.
In time The Who and the U2 may be considered tame. But it will be remembered as extraordinary, cutting-edge, avant-garde, pace setting. As a psychoanalyst I could not help but wonder what makes the experience so compelling. It seemed clear from the antics of the performers, who could play while walking about and sometimes leaping into the air that their behavior is what we call, 'manic'.
Mania is a part of manic-depression or bipolar disorder, that is the opposite of depression. Mania is not always a mental illness. It is a mood of euphoria, of restlessness, of a driving ambition. The performers are jet-propelled. It is as if there is an infusion of adrenalin and endorphins, producing excitement and hyper-alertness. The senses are quickened and the body wants to move. The movements, rather than be random or disordered, are controlled by the rhythm, which is basically a beat that is a variation of the basic heart-beat. People who are manic have heightened energy and powers. That is why we are in awe of them. Talented performers who manifest manic excitement, whether by their own brain chemistry or drugs, seem superhuman. The audience vicariously identifies with them and takes part in their apparent euphoria.
We pay good money for this and it is well worth it. We can buy their CD's and relive the experience at home or in our car. Music and dance are universal delights in every culture, and rock bands do a fine job of entertaining us. It is not everyone's cup of tea, but based on my own experience, even those in our sixties can learn to enjoy rock. It all started with Elvis and has evolved to the present. Ed Sullivan had trouble with it at first, but eventually he learned to love it.
It is a good feeling to be with a lot of young people who are having a good time. They are the wave of the future, and their message is love and peace.
Dr. Bloom lives and practices in Grosse Pointe Park, and is Clinical Associate Professor of Psychiatry in Wayne State University's School of Medicine. He is a Life Fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a member of the American Academy of Psychoanalysis. Comments and questions are welcome at his email address: vbloom@comcast.net.