The last concert I went to was almost ten years ago. I invited an ex-girlfriend to drive down to Los Angeles to meet me there. I even paid for her ticket, but she never showed up.

It was one of my favorite bands performing at the Wiltern. I’d never been there before. My seat was on the balcony, and the band played far down in front of the pit. I usually don’t go to concerts because I fear crowds, but I was alone way up there. It was like I had my own private suite. Some may have said that it was well worth the price of admission, but my ex still ditched me for whatever reason.

And the acoustics were abrasive on top of that. That was the problem I had with concerts. The bands usually always sounded off-key through the speakers. The other musicians would sometimes drown out the singer. Or he would not sing at all. He would hold the microphone out to the crowd and make them sing along. We would spend hundreds of dollars to do the job for him. It didn’t make sense.

They did perform their classics, and they sounded similar to what I’d played on their studio album through my headphones, except there was feedback, and the drummer drummed offbeat.

I left the concert early, about halfway through, having quit on my ex-girlfriend. I wouldn’t talk to her again, and I wouldn’t go to another concert. I was better off single and listening to the studio albums.